


How To Bang An X-Man

by Laughing_Screaming



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Crushes, Dialogue Heavy, Established Relationship, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gen, Hanging Out, Hook-Up, Jubilee is an X-Man (fight me), Kurt/Ororo heavy, Occasional angst, Raven is Kurt's mom, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Sitcom, Slow Burn, Swearing, Underage Drinking, all couples get some attention, also fast burn?, corny teen sex comedy, dadneto, first fic (sorry), gratuitous 80's stuff, mostly lighthearted, talking 'bout dicks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2020-03-07 19:14:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 236,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18879499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laughing_Screaming/pseuds/Laughing_Screaming
Summary: On a boring Friday night at the mansion, X-Women Jean, Jubilee, and Ororo try to answer the eternal question: What's a girl got to do to get laid around here?Set about two years after Apocalypse, this story follows the X-Men through the adventures of love, sex, dating, Drive-Ins, hangovers, robots, Sex Ed, saving all mutant-kind, and maybe cooking a pizza. Focuses primarily on Ororo/Kurt, but all couples get their time in the spotlight, and there's also a lot of platonic palling around among the X-Men.  A variety of eventual romance/sex/smut will ensue.





	1. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first-ever fic, so of course constructive criticism is welcome. I don't own anything of interest, including any X-Men. I tried to 'fill-in-the-blanks' from the movies with comic canon, but sometimes I just made up my own backstory/background details where the movies aren't clear. Please keep in mind that I only speak English, so any snippets of other languages in this story are just your standard Google Translate garbage, so please forgive any errors. The chapter titles are all going to be song titles or lyrics that are (hopefully) era-appropriate and relevant to the chapter content.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls get bored on a Friday evening, and try to spice things up with a friendly wager.

“Alright, ladies, the game is Monopoly. It’s basically about buying things and capitalism and property management and the only rules I can remember right now are that you get two hundred dollars when you pass GO, and I get to be the hat.” Jean rambled as she unfolded the ancient Monopoly playing board on the table and began handing out colorful fake money. 

“If you get to be the hat, I want to be the little dog.” Ororo snagged the small metallic dog from the pile of player tokens and started arranging her money. “What about you, Jubes?” 

“Ugh, anything but the lumpy bucket.” 

“That’s supposed to be a thimble, I think.” Jean stated without looking up from the cards and fake money she was attempting to organize. 

“Whatever it is, I hate it. Just hand me anything else.” 

 Ororo reached into the pile of player tokens and tossed a random one at Jubilee. 

“There. You’re a boat.” 

“Super. Maybe I’ll set sail for a faraway land where a bunch of single young women have something to do on Friday night other than play Monopoly.” Jubilee propped her head up in her hand with her elbow on the table while scrapping her fake money into an disorderly heap. 

“Look, we agreed on Monopoly. We also have Risk and Trivial Pursuit and a whole deck of cards. ‘Ro and I can play Go Fish and eat popcorn and gossip all night by ourselves if we’re keeping you from something more thrilling. Also, I have a date with Scott tomorrow night so you don’t need to rope me into your single-girl angst.” Jean had set down the game pieces and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. 

“Well, congratulations on getting laid occasionally. But what I’m saying is that there _is_  nothing more interesting to do. There’s no night life in this town for anyone under twenty-one, almost all my friends moved away to college after getting their diplomas, and all the new students are like fifteen years old, so ew…” Jubilee sighed and sat up straighter. “I mean, I actually really like our girls nights and playing old games and shit, but that’ll basically be the highlight of my weekend and that’s kinda pathetic.” 

Ororo reached across the table and placed her hand on Jubilee’s arm. “Oh, Jubilee, we love you too. And I have to say I can appreciate what you’re going through.” At this point Jean had rolled the dice and started moving her piece around the board. 

“Your turn, Ororo.” 

“Oh, right.” She rolled the dice and moved her piece forward. She picked up a card as indicated. “Go to jail? What the hell!? Welcome to America, indeed.” She moved her piece to the Jail square. “But as I was saying, I can see where you are coming from. You see, Egypt is a conservative country. Growing up, I often heard about how immoral and corrupt America was, how people there do nothing but have casual sex with strangers and men expose themselves to you in the street. When I came here, I was prepared for a certain amount of culture shock, a certain amount of inappropriate attention.” 

Jubilee rolled the dice this time and moved her boat-shaped token along the board. 

“I’m buying this property, okay?” she said, placing plastic house-shaped piece on the board and handing Jean fake money. 

Jean placed the money in a pile. “Sure thing. It’s a free country.” Jean said as Ororo rolled her eyes. 

“So once I got settled in this country, I decided I had better start taking birth control, in case I get caught up in all the casual sex that Americans apparently have constantly. However, more than a year and a half later, I find that I would have done better to spend that money on candy or a sweater or almost anything else. People here are so shy and socially awkward that we all have an argument every time we order takeout, because no one actually wants to pick up the phone and talk to another person. How is someone supposed to make a romantic connection in a society such as this?” Ororo said, throwing her hands up in exasperation. 

Jean finished moving her game piece and gave the dice the Ororo, who rolled them and finally escaped jail.   

“Well, what’s probably easiest to most people is to stick to people around you. When you talk to couples you generally find they either met in school or at work, not at a bar or anything like that.” Jean mused while organizing fake money. 

“That’s easy for you to say. Scott was basically dropped onto your lap.” Jubilee replied as she took a card from a pile of other cards. 

“There’s a mental image I could do without.” Ororo muttered under her breath. 

Jean ignored her and pressed forward. “Well, yes, I did kind of luck out there, but it’s not like we’re completely devoid of available men. There aren’t a ton of other guys here in our age group, but there are a few.” 

Jubilee scoffed. “Off the top of my head, I can only think of Peter and Kurt.” 

“What? What about the guy who was really good at languages? And the guy who converted sunlight to plasma or something like that? There has to be more than that. Also, Peter’s not in our age group, he’s, like, almost thirty.” 

“Doug was accepted to M.I.T. and Shiro went back to Japan after he graduated. None of the other guys that graduated when we did stuck around- they all either went home or got jobs or went to college.” Jubilee said without looking up from the game piece she moved around the board. “And, like, yeah, Peter’s older, but he has that like ‘older guy’ thing going on- like, that ‘hot older guy’ thing? You ever noticed that?” 

“Um, no. You know the gray hair is just his mutation, right?” Jean made a face and rolled the dice, moving her game piece. “Plus, he might be older than us _physically_ , but _mentally_ , I think he’s at our level or maybe even a little younger.” 

“I used to kind of see Peter that way when I still needed him to get me alcohol, but now that I can get my own alcohol I have to say I don’t see the appeal.” Ororo said as she shrugged and rolled her dice. She moved her game piece to an available property tile. “Yes! I want to buy this! Ororo Munroe, business mogul! A modern tale of hardship and redemption!” 

Jean took her fake money but narrowed her eyes at her skeptically. “’Ro, how old are you?” 

“I am twenty years old. Why?” 

“Then you still need Peter to get you alcohol. The drinking age in America is twenty-one.” Jean stated in an authoritative manner, hands laced together on the table. 

“What!? I thought that was just to get into bars. I’ve been buying alcohol for myself for months now!” Ororo sat back in her chair, scandalized. 

“Yeah, it’s for anything booze-related, unfortunately. More importantly, where the hell have you been buying liquor without getting carded? And what the hell did you have to do to get Peter to buy you booze? You’ve been holding out on us, Munroe!” Jubilee turned in her chair and pointed at Ororo, clearly planning on turning the conversation into an interrogation. 

“What do you mean? I just gave Peter money and asked him politely. And I go to the liquor store in the little strip mall on Oak street. The man who works there, Wesley, is very nice and has never carded me. That’s why I thought it was okay!” Ororo, intent on defending herself, continued. “Besides, it’s not like I was buying massive amounts of alcohol or getting wasted or driving drunk. I just like to enjoy a glass of red wine while reading on weekend nights. Is that such a crime?” 

“Technically, yes it is.” Jean said. 

“Anyway, I need to check out this liquor store…” Jubilee thought out loud. 

“No. No you do not. This is a delicate ecosystem based on trust and mutual ignorance. Wesley and I have an understanding, and I will not have you mess it all up by prancing in and buying a ton of hard liquor.” Ororo stared intently at Jubilee while gripping the arms of her chair. Jubilee was not impressed. 

“Huh. What, exactly, does this ‘understanding’ you have with the store owner consist of?” 

“The understanding that he thinks I’m twenty-five or so?” 

“Well, if he thinks you’re twenty-five, he’ll think I’m over-age too.” 

“Jubes, you’re five-foot-three and you look fourteen.” Jean interjected, growing tired of the whole conversation. The board game pieces lay untouched and ignored. 

“Uh, wow, that is pretty racist.” Jubilee glared at Jean and crossed her arms. 

“I’m sorry Jubilee, but Jean has a point. I mean, you wear your hair in pigtails almost all the time. I’ve never known an adult to do that.” Ororo said, attempting to smooth the sudden tension in the room. 

“Yeah. And your hair elastics sometimes have the same colorful plastic balls on them that I wore in my fifth grade class photo. You have to admit that your aesthetic doesn’t exactly scream ‘mature adult who can buy alcohol.’ Especially when you consider that you’d probably buy a quart of peach schnapps or something gross like that.” Jean added, looking satisfied to have made her point. 

“Um, peach schnapps is delicious, they call it liquid panty dropper for a reason.” Jubilee said. She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms behind her head. “I bet if I hooked up with Peter he’d get me as much peach schnapps as I wanted.” 

Ororo threw her hands up in frustration. “Were you not listening to me? If you want Peter to get you liquor, you just need to ask him orally.” 

Jean could hardly stifle a laugh and Jubilee smiled and raised an eyebrow. 

“Orally, huh?” 

“I MEAN WITH WORDS! You are both childish.” Jubilee and Jean were both laughing out loud now while Ororo sat stone-faced and somewhat embarrassed. 

“Haha, nah, it would be more fun this way. I don’t really feel like turning down an opportunity to get booze _and_  get laid…” Jubilee said while beaming, satisfied with her own genius. 

“Sorry, Jubes, I don’t mean to be a Debbie Downer, but you may want to re-think the logistics of hooking up with a guy who’s mutation is super-speed. It might not be the thrill-ride you’re expecting.” Jean said, suddenly serious again. “In fact, I’d be willing to bet you can get, at most, one minute of actual sex.” 

“What? As if! I’d bet that his mutation makes banging him extra-fun in some way, like maybe he can make his dick vibrate or something.” Jubilee countered. 

“A man with a vibrating penis would be proof that God both exists _and_  is a woman.” Ororo added. 

“Ugh, the best thing about vibrators is that they __aren’t__  attached to men. And I’m not joking. I’m willing to bet actual American currency here. Ten dollars says that Peter couldn’t make it last through a commercial break.” Jean said confidently, sitting straighter and folding her arms, apparently daring Jubilee to back down. 

“Newsflash: The best thing about vibrators is that they fucking vibrate. And **_**_YOU’RE ON_**_**!” Jubilee shouted as she leaned across the table at Jean. 

Ororo laughed and clapped. “This is so exciting! Now, Jubilee, for safety reasons I’d recommend you obtain a bucket of personal lubricant and a fire extinguisher for your crotch before you pursue this any further.” 

“Oh, ha ha. I’ll get a bucket of lube if you get a broom to knock the cobwebs out of your vag that collected there while me and Jean were off getting laid.” Jubilee shot back. 

“Ouch. Touché” 

“That raises an important point, Jubes. We can’t abandon our friend to a life of celibacy in her prime, while we’re catching dick like it’s going out of style. That would be a clear Girl Code violation.” Jean said, and Jubilee shrugged and nodded. 

“You’re right, we shouldn’t gloat. We should help our mutant sister through this difficult time.” Jubilee said solemnly. 

Ororo scoffed. “You especially shouldn’t gloat since you haven’t done anything yet! You’ve just talked about it!” 

“Shush, you. We’re trying to help!” Jubilee leaned against the arm of her chair, as if deep in thought. “Now, for example, it seems like you and Kurt spend a lot of time together. That’s something.” 

Ororo shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. He’s very sweet and helps me with my gardening. He’s good company, but I don’t know if he thinks of me that way, and honestly I don’t think I’ve thought of him that way either.” 

Jubilee leaned towards Ororo, eyes sparkling with excitement. “See, that’s the best part. You already like each other well enough, and he has two functional eyeballs and you’re _totally hot_  so he definitely already thinks of you ‘ _ _t_ hat way_’ whether he acts on it or not.” 

 Ororo smiled and tilted her head. “Aw, thank you, Jubilee. I think you’re hot too.” 

Jubilee smirked and shrugged at the polite interruption. “Okay, rad, thanks. Anyway, We have to admit Kurt’s kinda hot in, like, a _really_  mutant-y way. I mean, for one, he’s tall…” 

“When he actually stands up straight…” Jean muttered. 

Jubilee continued without pause. “He’s definitely, _definitely_ , in ridiculous shape. I mean, you saw the male gymnasts in the Olympics? He’s absolutely at least that fit, if not better. “ 

“Goddess, the only thing better than the male gymnasts were the male diving team. I mean, the competitors weren’t the only thing getting wet at that event….” Ororo mused, almost to herself. 

“I know, right!? I mean, imagine what would happen if they made the male gymnasts wear the same outfit as the male divers…mhmm..” Jubilee trailed off. 

“That would cause a riot. Also, you’re both forgetting that Kurt’s skinny as fuck.” Jean said, apparently eager to bring the conversation back to harsh reality. 

“Okay, so, for one, don’t rain on my fantasy parade. For two, don’t be mean, he’s not nearly as bad as he was when he first got here.” Jubilee replied, counting her points out on her fingers. “Anyway, where was I? Right. Blue’s everyone’s favorite color, the ears are cute, the accent’s hot, and he’s probably hung like a horse.” Ororo’s eyes snapped wider at that last comment, while Jean reeled back in bewilderment. 

“Wait! What the hell? No way! You have no way to know that!” She crossed her hands in front of her in a clear ‘no’ and continued “He does not have the attitude for it, _at all_.” 

“Um, Jean, a dick’s just a body part and not an extension of a guy’s personality. It doesn’t really need an attitude to go with it.” Jubilee explained with her hands clasped together. 

“Nuh-uh, that’s not true. Guys with big dicks always have this attitude like nothing really matters, everything always fine. Like this permanent confidence that society could collapse, they could be penniless, the building they’re in could burn down, and their favorite sports team could lose the playoffs, and it’s all totally fine, because at least they still have this giant dick.” Jean explained. “See, Kurt’s shy and often seems worried about different things. So almost certainly like average or so. Not overly small because small guys all are about false confidence and being cocky and arrogant. But really more average than anything.” 

“Based on that bullet-proof logic, Scott’s average too.” Jubilee pointed out. 

“Well, he’s no slouch…” Jean said somewhat dreamily. 

“AND if ‘not giving a fuck’ is all that a guy has to do to have a massive dick, then that means Peter’s probably got like a baseball bat down there or something like that… I’ve never known anyone who gave less of a fuck…” Jubilee added before trailing off, her mind having started to wander. 

“This brings me back to my original point about the lubricant, Jubilee. You need to consider your physical well being.” Ororo piped up, forcing the other two to snap out of their respective daydreams. 

Jubilee turned to Ororo and leaned on the armrest closest to her, looking her straight in the eye. “How about you just let _me_  worry about _my_  vagina, and _you_  can worry about _yours_.” Ororo simply put her hands up in a show of surrender. 

Jubilee turned back to the table and continued. “Anyway, this brings me back to MY original point, which was that Jean’s full of shit and Kurt’s definitely hung.” 

“What is even the basis of this assumption? Have you been spying on the boy’s locker room or something?” Jean said skeptically, narrowing her eyes at Jubilee. 

“It’s basic anatomy, Jean. Tall, thin guy with big hands and feet. That’s essentially the Holy Trinity of ‘dudes who pack meat’.” Jubilee explained. 

“I don’t see why we’re stuck on this particular detail. I mean, it’s never been a major factor in whether I’ve decided to pursue-” Ororo said before being interrupted by Jean. 

“Speaking of _Holy Trinity_ , we have to consider the fact that he likely has almost no sexual experience whatsoever, like, probably never even held hands with a girl. I mean, I like Kurt as much as the next person, but I really think this would be an uphill battle for you, ‘Ro. He might not even be open to dating or adult relationships at all.” Ororo opened her mouth to respond but was again interrupted by Jubilee. 

“Wait! No! Back up, wrong again!” Jubilee began to argue. “This ‘good Catholic boy’ thing that guys put on is ALWAYS fake, one hundred percent of time time. I mean, my first boyfriend was Catholic so I think I know a thing or two. Have you ever met any other Catholics, ‘Ro?” 

“Well, until very recently, I didn’t even know there was more than one type of Christian, so I doubt it.” 

“In that case, it’s story time!” Jubilee turned in her chair to face Ororo and pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged. “So anyway, this guy I started dating in tenth grade was this sweet religious boy with nine siblings. I should have known something was up, because clearly _all_  his parents _ever did_ was fuck. Well, as it turns out, he might have devoted Sundays to worshiping the Lord, but the other six days of the week were devoted to getting into my pants. I have never seen someone so desperate to get laid, it was pathetic. Constant begging and negotiating and trying to get me to touch his dick. I once told him I’d give him a handjob if he did my history homework for me, but then when he completed it I told him I had a hangnail so I couldn’t do it!” She laughed to herself and continued. “Anyway, the point is that Kurt might act all innocent and devout, but it’s probably all an act. In fact, with circus folk being nomadic, he probably had a different girl in every idyllic little postcard-looking European town they stopped at.” Jubilee leaned back in her chair with her hands interlaced behind her head, satisfied with her teaching skills. Ororo paused to process this deluge of unrequested information. 

“I don’t think so. Kurt does not strike me as a player _at all._ Plus, I feel like he’s pretty legit with his religious practices. Like, he doesn’t even eat meat on Fridays.” Jean said, unconvinced. 

“JFK was Catholic and he fucked anything that walked.” Jubilee added. 

“Yeah, but he was also hot as fuck AND the president so he absolutely had women throwing themselves at him constantly.” Jean replied. 

“This ‘All-American’ look is basically a fetish for you at this point, isn’t it?” Jubilee said accusingly. Jean quickly shushed her. Jubilee rolled her eyes and continued. “Anyway, maybe not a girl in _every_  town, but definitely some of the circus chicks. Because being Catholic doesn’t mean passing up an opportunity to bang the chick who sells the cotton candy. Being Catholic means fucking the brains out of the chick who sells the cotton candy, and maybe feeling bad about it later.” 

“I don’t buy it, sorry. I mean, he blushes when we watch movies where the characters make out. That doesn’t scream ‘man-slut’ to me.” Jean said while shrugging. 

“That doesn’t mean anything, sometimes those scenes are awkward as hell. Plus, I swear sometimes he says things in German and I just _know_  he’s talking filth cuz we can’t understand it. And don’t forget those marks or tattoos he has on him, for sins or whatever? No way they’re all all for stealing or swearing or hitting people… I’m sure like ninety percent of them are for lust or lust-related activities. AND they’re probably everywhere, and I mean EV-ERY-WHERE.” Jubilee replied as she folded her arms in confidence. 

Ororo, who had long since checked out of the conversation and had been stacking the house-shaped game pieces into a tower, suddenly found her attention caught. “What? You don’t mean… no way. Ow.” She cringed and shook her head vigorously. 

“Well, you’re just gonna have to find out for yourself…” Jubilee replied casually while checking out her hot-pink nail polish. 

“Yeah, good luck with that. As I said- uphill battle. If you go for it, I think you’re in for a disappointment.” Jean said, looking at Ororo pointedly. 

Ororo narrowed her eyes at Jean and her expression changed to one of frustration. “I don’t appreciate this repeated implication that I couldn’t seduce a man who, according to you, probably hasn’t even seen a naked woman before. It’s insulting.” 

“Well, jeez, sorry. I just don’t think you can undo almost two decades of religious indoctrination with a bottle of Merlot and a push-up bra.” 

“Oh, Jean, how little you know about me. It wouldn’t even take that.” Jean raised her eyebrows at Ororo’s cool confidence. “You see, one thing I know is that, whether you are in America, Egypt, Kenya, or anywhere else in the world, some things are always the same. There are many religions, many gods, but only ever one type of man.” 

“Ooookay… no comment.” 

“Sweet! So this is happening, great!” Jubilee rubbed her hands together gleefully. “I gotta say, ‘Ro, I think you’re gonna have a lot of fun with this. I mean, he has a tail, that’s gotta have some interesting uses! And there’s also the fact that each of his fingers is thicker than most guy’s dicks.” 

Jean made a face. “Uh, ouch. He kinda has claws though.” 

Ororo shrugged. “This doesn’t concern me. They’re very dull. He picks snails off my lettuce all the time.” 

A look of extreme confusion crossed Jean’s face. “Snails? Lettuce? Is this some kinda euphemism?” 

Ororo snickered at Jean’s confusion. “Get your head out of the gutter! In my garden, snails attack my lettuce. He helps me remove the snails from my lettuce.” 

“ ** _ ** _What the fuck_**_**  does that have to do with sex?” 

“It’s extremely delicate work. He harms neither the snails nor the lettuce. Someone that gentle with their hands could be trusted with almost any task.” Ororo explained as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

Jean remained unconvinced. “If you say so. Better you than me, I guess.” 

“Yeah, damn straight better ‘Ro than you, being as you’ve been fucking the human equivalent of those hot dogs they sell at baseball games.” Jubilee snapped. “I mean, here I thought you were all ‘mutant and proud’” 

“I am! I couldn’t care less about Kurt being blue, I just don’t see the appeal of a skinny guy with shitty posture and bad teeth. Although the tail is a bit concerning, still don’t know how I feel about that. Also, don’t insult those hot dogs, they’re a hundred percent American beef and they’re delicious, they’re an institution.” Jean said, frantically trying to defend herself. “Besides, I do like him, he’s a sweet guy, but he’s sensitive, religious, from a very conservative background, and has done nothing but get ostracized and discriminated against for his appearance his whole life. If either of you think that fucking him out of curiosity or to prove a point is doing him any favors, you’re sorely mistaken.” 

Jubilee and Ororo glanced at each other, but neither could formulate a response. Jean seemed to revel in the silence she created, and started to pack away the long-forgotten Monopoly supplies, starting with sorting the fake money by color. Finally, she decided to add to her previous point. 

“The other thing is that his mom lives, like, two doors up the hall. Wouldn’t that make things just a bit awkward?” This time, Ororo could actually respond. 

“I don’t think so. From what I’ve gathered from Kurt, they hardly speak at all, and I doubt she would care _who _or_ what _he does when he’s not training. And Jean, you don’t need to worry about him getting his feelings hurt- I’m not the sort of woman men regret being with.” Jean shrugged and nodded, while Jubilee turned to Ororo in amazement. 

“Wow, I am digging this sensual confidence you have right now. I feel like you could bottle it and sell it.” Ororo smiled and shrugged slightly. 

“We all have it, you just need to learn how to use it.” 

“Yeah, Jubes, you need to use it so that I can get my ten bucks!” Jean exclaimed, pointing across the table and laughing. 

“As if! I already have your ten bucks spent in my head. I wonder if I should share my peach schnapps or keep it to myself?” Jubilee said and grinned. “In fact, wanna up the ante a bit?” 

“Of course. I don’t know what I’ll do with all this money you’re gonna owe me, but let’s hear it.” Jean smirked and crossed her arms on the table, leaning across it and towards Jubilee. 

“How about another ten bucks says I’m right about Kurt- that he’s experienced, hung, and, uh, decorated.” 

“Well, that bet’s more complicated because it has three separate criteria. If we make it five bucks per item, I’m in.” 

“Deal!” Jubilee extends her hand across the table and Jean takes it and they shake once. 

Ororo looked somewhat annoyed at being left out. “And what do I get out of all this?” 

“Uh, dick?” Jubilee offered. 

“Well, yes, I know, but I want to make a bet, too. And how come you and I have our sex lives up for betting, but Jean does not?” Ororo said, motioning towards Jean. 

Jean shrugged and shook her head a little. “There’s nothing to bet about with Scott and I. We’ve already slept together so there’s not much else to it.” 

“ _What do you mean_  there’s not much else too it? There’s a ton more to it! I mean, you give us hardly any details about you and Scott’s ‘activities,’ but ‘Ro and I are supposed to lay out the nitty-gritty of our future encounters?” Jubilee said, now siding with Ororo. “I mean, is he into any weird shit you’re trying to avoid doing? How is he at eating pussy? Is he the kinda guy who like, pushes your head when you’re blowing him, or does he just let you do your thing?” Jean appeared to be rendered speechless. 

“Besides…” Ororo began “Just because you’ve had sex doesn’t mean that you’re _done _.__ I know Americans have this silly baseball analogy where sex is ‘home plate’ but this is a very short-sighted view of sexuality in a long-term arrangement. It’s less like finishing a race and more like unlocking the door to a whole world of intimacy and physical pleasure.” 

Jubilee sat awestruck. “Again, ‘Ro,…..teach me…” Ororo laughed and patted Jubilee’s shoulder. Jean actually looked embarrassed for once in her life, and licked her lips before attempting to speak. 

“Um, well, for one, we haven’t done a lot of that stuff…” 

Ororo and Jubilee’s mouths fell open as they stared directly at Jean. 

“So you mean you haven’t…” Jubilee started, before motioning her fist towards her mouth in the universal sign language for a blowjob. 

“Um, no.” 

“And he’s never gone…” Ororo continued, pointing with both hands towards her groin. 

“Nope.” 

“ _What the fuck_?” Jubilee whispered harshly. 

“What!? it’s just…I dunno…he never asked, so I never offered and I don’t even know if I’d like a guy going down on me so we just moved on to other things. I have a bit of a hangup about the idea of a guy, you know, fucking around down there, so I’ve just kinda avoided it.” 

“Are you afraid you have a strange-looking vagina? Many young women are self-conscious, but are perfectly normal.” Ororo offered helpfully. 

“Ugh, no, my vagina’s fine, thankyouverymuch.” 

“Okay, so, no one’s gonna bet ten bucks you can suck a dick because sucking a dick’s so easy. I mean, guys have it made, they have no idea how good they have it. It tells you how to suck a dick right there in almost every issue of Cosmo.” Jubilee rambled. Ororo tried to subtly shush her. 

“Well, yes, that part’s not rocket science. And I’m sure Scott would be more than happy to go down on you if he knew that was what you wanted. After all, he’s your boyfriend, and it’s kind of his duty.” Ororo explained gently. 

“That’s the thing, I don’t know if I want him to, though. I mean, I’m fine with just sex!” Jean exclaimed, becoming exasperated by the scrutiny she was now under. 

“Jean, why settle for being fine when you could be _****totally fucking fantastic****_?” Jubilee practically shouted the last part while raising both arms in the air. 

Jean shook her head vigorously. “No, I mean, it’s not worth it. What if he thinks it’s gross? I read minds, I’ll know!” 

Jubilee rolled her eyes. “if your boyfriend thinks vaginas are gross, you’re going to have bigger issues down the road.” 

Ororo reached out and gently placed her hand on Jean’s forearm. “Something tells me this isn’t about Scott. Maybe it would be helpful if you told us why you feel this way?” 

Jean paused and looked down for a few seconds before sighing. “Ugh, fine…” 

Jubilee clapped. “Yay! Story time!” she exclaimed before Ororo shushed her, yet again. 

“Alright, so here goes…This was back in high school, a couple years after my powers first manifested but before I knew anything about being a mutant. I was definitely ‘the weird girl’ in my school because of it.” Jean began quietly. 

“I’m pretty sure all mutant chicks get to be ‘the weird girl,’” Jubilee interjected. 

“Yeah, but this was pretty bad. I heard voices all the time, and didn’t know it was actually people’s thoughts. I couldn’t tell the difference between what I knew about people because they told me and what I knew about them because I ‘overheard’ them thinking it, so everyone thought I was creepy and untrustworthy. My parents thought I was schizophrenic, and I was _this close_  to being institutionalized.” Jean explained, holding her hand up with her thumb and finger close together. 

Ororo reached over and placed her hand on Jean’s shoulder and smiled at her. “I knew you had said you had issues before coming here, but I had never thought about how difficult it must have actually been for you. It’s amazing how far you’ve come!” 

Jean shrugged. “Thanks, I guess. I mean, that’s not the point of the story, but thank you. The point is the few friends I had all had boyfriends and went out with guys and stuff, and being a creepy loser I was lonely and felt left out. So when a guy asked me to the semi-formal, I didn’t care that he was a bit of a loser too.” 

“How big of a loser are we talking here?” Jubilee asked. 

“Not too bad, I guess, overall. He was okay looking, kinda greasy. He mainly talked about how he wanted to be a pro wrestler when he grew up, but wasn’t athletic at all. He always smelled like fish sticks even though I never saw him eat a fish stick.” Jean explained as Jubilee made a disgusted face. 

“Anyway, we went to the dance and had an okay time. The whole time his mind’s running a commentary on how nervous he is and how much he wants to get physical with me, but I don’t pick up on it because, again, I thought I was just crazy. After the dance we go back to his dad’s truck and start making out a bit. It’s okay but not great. Neither of us had any experience but I kind of thought ‘well, this is as good as it gets for me’ so I just went with it. Pretty soon he’s got one hand down the front of my dress, manhandling the hell out of my boobs, and doesn’t even seem very enthusiastic about it. I just think to myself, ‘I suppose I just don’t have that great of a rack’ and continue.” 

“Jean, you have a superb rack.” Ororo was quick to interject. 

“Um, thanks. So we keep going, and he starts creeping his other hand up the hem of my dress. Now, all my friends with boyfriends would all rave about how great it is when a guy fingers you, so I actually get a little excited. I thought ‘This must be where it gets good!’ so I let him keep going, but once his hand got inside my panties, that’s when all hell broke lose…” 

Jubilee gasped, “Oh no! Did he have a hangnail?” Ororo cringed and shrunk into her chair. 

“No, although his hands were callused as fuck, so that part wasn’t great either. What happened was that as soon as he started to touch me, his mind just started running a very loud commentary about how confused and disgusted he was by, like, almost every detail about my body. Like ‘it’s hairy! And squishy! Ugh it’s slimy! What is that? Why’s it so warm? Ew, it moved!’ and on and on like that. Meanwhile, I’m there hearing all this, but not really knowing whether I’m hearing it with my brain or with my ears, with my stupid fucking semi-formal dress pushed up to my chest and my foot on the steering wheel of his dad’s dirty seventy-two Ford truck. So once I can’t take it anymore, I push him off me and jump out of the truck and start walking home barefoot cuz my high heels blistered my feet. Last thing I hear is him calling me a ‘frigid bitch’ and driving off. To top it off, I’m pretty sure he told a bunch of people that I blew him.” Jean finished and folded her hands on top of the table. Ororo and Jubilee gaped at Jean and then each other. 

“Ohmygod, Jean, I had no idea…” Jubilee finally said. 

“If something like that had happened to me, I would…I would run off to… that place women go when they are done with men and never want to see them again…” Ororo managed to eventually say, unsure of what she was trying to describe.   

“You mean a convent?” Jean suggested. 

“Or an apartment building that allows cats?” Jubilee helpfully added. 

Ororo leaned back in her chair, deep in thought. Finally, she leaned towards Jean with her palms together, clearly having come up with some sort of plan. “Now that you have told us this, Jean, we both completely sympathize with your mindset before. However, I feel like you are in a position in your life right now to undo some of the damage your early experiences has caused. For one, you have much better control over your power now, yes?” 

Jean nodded. “Now, unless I intentionally try to read people’s minds, I mainly get an impression of their feeling about something, not their literal thought about it.” 

Ororo continued, “And two, I’m going to assume that Scott is- if anything- the opposite of disgusted by your body. He’s smitten with you, he’s mature, and he’s kind. He might be apprehensive about trying something new, but he won’t be grossed out.” 

“Yeah, I mean, by the sounds of it, that first guy was probably either not actually into chicks, or way too immature about sex to even attempt it.” Jubilee added. 

Ororo nodded once in agreement. “So Jean, my bet to you is this: My ten dollars says that you and Scott can work past this issue and expand your sexual repertoire, culminating hopefully in being able to enjoy oral sex together. I bet this not because I don’t think you can do it, but because I know that you can and I hope that the promise of my ten dollars will give you confidence to continue trying even if you feel discouraged.” She sat back and waited for Jean’s reply. 

“Ohmigod, ‘Ro, you are so wholesome I could cry. You are like a sexual fairy godmother.” Jubilee gushed. 

Ororo gave a small shrug and shook her head. “I don’t know what that is. Anyway, Jean, is it a deal?” Ororo reached her hand across the table towards Jean, awaiting a handshake. 

Jean stared at the hand before her for several seconds. Finally, a small smile crossed her face and she firmly grasped Ororo’s hand, shaking it once. 

“You have a deal!” 

Ororo’s face lit up with a broad grin. “Good. I am glad! Well, ladies, it seems we have our work cut out for us.” 

“Totally! I can’t wait to hear Jean tell us all about gettin’ down on that ballpark-frank of a man of hers..” Jubilee said with a laugh, crossing her arms behind her head. 

Jean laughed “Like I said, those are the best hot dogs, all-American, all-beef, always dependable…” She motioned towards Ororo. “I guess if we’re doing this analogy, that would make Kurt some kind of exotic bratwurst in the fancy imported section of the grocery store. Might be a bit of an acquired taste.” 

Ororo nodded in acknowledgement and smiled. “This is the section of the grocery store in which I also find myself. And if it’s an acquired taste, I look forward to acquiring it.” 

Jubilee raised her hands off of the back of her head and looked at the other two girls quizzically. “Okay, so, like, where does that leave Peter?” 

Jean and Ororo glanced at each other and smirked. Jean finally spoke up. “Gas station hot dog.” 

Jubilee tilted her head. “What the fuck?” 

Jean continued with a wicked smile, “It’s been around way longer than it should be, it isn’t good for you AT ALL, but if you need some fast meat- there it is.” Ororo and Jean stated laughing hysterically, much to Jubilee’s chagrin. 

“Oh, come on, guys…” she started, until being dragged into the infectious laughing fit. She giggled despite herself and shrugged. “Well, who among us hasn’t needed some fast meat now and then.” 

“Amen to that.” Jean exclaimed, once she could speak again. 

Ororo thrust her hand, palm downwards, into the middle of the table. “To breaking down sexual barriers!” 

Jubilee enthusiastically slapped her palm down on top of Ororo’s. “To getting laid!” 

Jean eyed the other two skeptically. “This is so corny.” 

Jubilee scoffed at her. “Whatever. Just throw it in here, girl.” 

Jean laughed to herself and did as instructed, adding her hand to the top of the stack. “To getting head!” 

The other two laughed uproariously before the three of them quickly lowered their hands together and pulled them apart from each other. 

“Yeeessss!” Jubilee exclaimed finally. “This is gonna be so fun!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter, Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, is from the famous Cyndi Lauper song of the same name, released in 1983.


	2. Creatures of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ororo gets help with her homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty tame chapter. Some underage drinking, but only if you are American.

Shortly after the girls decided to pack away the neglected Monopoly game and move on to other activities for the evening, Ororo made her way to the kitchen for a glass of water and a snack. She had a book report due in a little over a week and a half, and the book she was reading was by far the worst piece of literature she had ever encountered. Her current plan was to try and force herself to read as much as possible, and if she couldn’t stand it anymore, maybe pour herself a glass of the red wine she had stashed in her bedside table to see if that would dull the pain any. It was times like that that she started to resent that Jean and Jubilee had graduated and had their diplomas already, and didn’t have to take extra courses to make up for the lack of formal education that she and Kurt had. She knew it was a temporary inconvenience, and for her own good, but it always ate into the little free time that their X-Men training allowed.   

When she walked into the kitchen, the room was empty except for a single person who was apparently half-inside the mansion’s huge refrigerator, rooting for something buried in the very back. Although the open door separated them from Ororo, the slim blue spaded tail swaying gently back and forth left little doubt as to who it was. Kurt hummed tunelessly to himself, completely oblivious that he was no longer alone as he sifted through the poorly-organized mess of an entire school’s worth of leftovers and packaging. Not wanting to startle him, Ororo waited quietly until he removed a large opaque tupperware and stuffed it under the crook of his arm. When he finally closed the door and noticed her watching him, he froze, eyes as wide and bright as an owl’s. 

“You must be hungry.” she said, glancing at the larger-than-normal container under his arm. 

“Well… _ja_..yes I suppose.” he replied quickly, seemingly embarrassed for no apparent reason. 

“Did you find any leftover spaghetti from dinner on your search?” She took a few steps forward to close the distance between them, and leaned lightly against the fridge door. 

He smiled slightly and laughed a little. “Ha! No, there was a bit of a feeding frenzy a couple of hours ago. I don’t think it survived.” He turned towards her and also leaned against the fridge. It looked awkward because of the large container under his arm. 

“Well, what do you have there? Maybe you should share.” she said with a smirk, looking pointedly at his container. She’s mostly joking, but is curious about what it contains. 

“Um…well…” His eyes darted around the room, and his expression shifted briefly to one of consideration, as if he were mulling over some big decision. With a final glance over his shoulder, he leaned towards her and whispered, “Do you want a beer?” 

Ororo couldn’t help but laugh. “A beer? You mean an alcoholic beer?” 

He shrugged and smiled at her bewilderment. “Is there another kind?” 

She thought of her discussion about alcohol with the girls earlier in the evening. She channeled some of Jean’s sternness and pointed at Kurt. “You know, the legal drinking age in this country is twenty-one years old!” 

Kurt seemed unconcerned. “It was sixteen in Germany.” 

Ororo nodded. “Nice. It was eighteen in Egypt, but was technically prohibited in most places. However, anyone who knew where to look could always find what they needed!” 

“And you seem like someone who would know where to look?” he smirks with his head tilted. 

“Always!” 

They both laugh, but after they stopped, he motioned towards her with his free arm. “So did you want one or…” 

“Oh, right! Yes, please!” She watched as he set the container down on the counter, and noticed the small handwritten note taped to the cover. It was obviously Kurt’s loopy, sloppy handwriting, and as far as she could tell, was entirely in German. He pried the cover off to reveal a tea towel, which he then removed to reveal several brown beer bottles arranged in an alternating top-to-bottom way to allow them to stack easier. He removed two and placed the cover back on the container. He turned back towards her and to her surprise, was able to rip the cap off her beer using the claw-like nail of his first finger. He handed her beer to her before repeating the process with his. 

“Wow. Hidden talent!” she remarked. 

He smiled sheepishly. “It can come in handy, yes. Have you had much beer since you came to America?” 

She shook her head. “No, maybe one or two. Honestly, I didn’t overly care for them. My drink of choice in Egypt was red wine, when I could find it.” 

He nodded. “This is a German beer, a pilsner. I was surprised to be able to find it here, it actually seems more popular in America than it was back home. It’s a little stronger than most American beers, so it’s okay if you don’t like it.” He took a swig from his bottle. She shrugged and took a swig from hers. He was right- it was stronger than the beer she had tried here, but not in a bad way. It had a bold flavor, but lacked the wateriness or ‘skunkiness’- as she had heard people call it- of the previous beer she had tried. 

She took another swig, nodded and smiled. “I think I like it!” 

Kurt grins, displaying altogether too many teeth. “Good! We’re allowed to be friends!” They both laughed, after which he looked down and muttered “I’m just kidding, we were already friends.” 

She considered how cute it was that he’d worry about hurting her feelings with such a harmless joke, but quickly turned her attention back to the container he had apparently been hiding his beer in. She reached over and snatched the note off the lid. 

“So I can’t imagine that this is German for ‘Kurt’s beer-don’t touch!’” she said with a smile, holding the note up to him. He chuckled quietly and took it from her hand. 

“Heh, no, not quite.” He took the note and held it up for her, pointing out how certain words were written larger and were underlined. “See, it literally translates to a simple instruction on how to make sauerkraut, which is a type of fermented cabbage that’s common in German cooking. It has to sit for a while to ferment, so anyone who could read it and was familiar with it would know not to open it…” 

“Like Raven or Erik.” 

“ _Ja_ , exactly. But the best part is that most Americans know about sauerkraut but really don’t like it, so I made sure to write the word ‘sauerkraut’ is big, obvious letters so they’d just naturally avoid it. You see, I’ve discovered that sauerkraut is an effective American repellent.” He smiles and leans back slightly, arms now folded. He doesn’t exactly look smug, but he is definitely pleased with himself. 

She peers up at him, considering whether she should toy with him a bit. Why not? “You know…” she started, looking down at her beer and picking at the label before taking another drink, “I was raised in Africa, but I actually born here in the United States. My parents moved to Egypt when I was only six months old. So technically speaking, I’m an American too.” She looked back up at him to see what sort of effect she would have. 

His eyes widened and his smile dropped. “I really am surrounded, then, aren’t I?” 

She caught his gaze and held it, half-smiling. “Yes. And you should know that I’m immune to the effects of this ‘sour cabbage’ of yours.” she said lowly, waving her hand at his beer container with a slight flourish. 

He looked down at his beer bottle, head tilting slightly. “Well, it looks like I’m really in for it…” 

“Yes,…” she all-but-purred. “It looks like you are.” She leaned forward, waiting to see if he’ll look back up at her. He kept his eyes downward, but she could swear she noticed the tips of his ears turn purple. Seconds tick by until a sudden realization forces Kurt to break the silence. 

“Speaking of which, we should probably drink these somewhere a little more private…” he said, placing the note back on top of his beer container and picking it up. “Do you think you might like a second one later on? I don’t think they’ll warm up too fast…” 

“I think I would, thank you! And if they start to get warm, I can always just make it snow on them.” she replied, waving her hand in the direction of his container in a mock display of her power. 

He nods appreciatively. “And you thought opening a bottle was a hidden talent!” His tail moves around the front of his body and he transfers his half-full beer to it’s coiled grip. He moves his now-free arm towards her, offering her his forearm. “Shall we?” Rather than simply place her hand on his arm as she (and most of their colleagues) normally did when teleporting, she instead moved closer to him, linked her arm with his at the elbow, lining her forearm up with his and rested her palm on the back of his hand. 

She glanced up at his slightly confused face with a grin. “Yes, let’s!” 

****** 

The intense, split-second of disorientation that she had grown accustomed to when teleporting quickly gave way to a much different, profoundly unpleasant, but still familiar feeling. She didn’t recognize where they had teleported to, and could only sense that the room was tiny and almost completely dark. The darkness weighed down on her, seemingly squeezing her from all sides, as the indistinct walls and ceiling appeared closer and closer by the second. 

“Where are we?” she forced herself to say. The sound of her breathing echoed off the walls at an ever-increasing rate. 

“This is my room.” Kurt replied. Invisible beside her, she can feel him move his hand from her arm to her shoulder. “Are you feeling alright, Ororo? You’re shaking. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is soft and concerned. 

“No. Get me out of here.” she demanded with what felt like it could be her last breath. 

“Of course. Any preference where?” 

“No.” 

This time, disorientation gave way to a different type of familiarity. Her room, her bed, her large window open with a cool evening breeze wafting in. She quickly set her beer on her bedside table and sat on her bed, her legs having been reduced to jello. She covered her face with her hands and tried to breathe, slow and hard. Soon, she lay back on the bed, face still covered and legs dangling off the side. Once she became oriented to reality yet again, she could hear Kurt step softly towards her desk and set his beer and tupperware container down. 

“ _Es tut mir_ …I’m so sorry, Ororo. What you must think… I don’t normally try to ply young women with alcohol and lock them in my bedroom. I’ll just…I’ll just leave you alone…” he rambled quickly before trailing off. She heard him turn on his heel to leave. She couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of their current situation. Never had she bungled an attempt to seduce a man so quickly and thoroughly. She uncovered her face by raking her hands back through her hair, still laughing to herself. 

“Kurt, stop it. You don’t need to leave, it has nothing to do with you. I just didn’t know that you lived in a shoe box.” she attempted to explain as she propped herself up on her elbows. He stood and stared at her with his head tilted and his arms at his sides, confusion playing out across his face. 

“I don’t understand.” he finally said. He had brought his tail around to the front of his abdomen and grasped it with both hands. She had noticed him do this a few times before when he felt truly out of his element. 

She sighed and sat up, picking her beer back up off her bedside table. She pointed to the desk chair located close to her bed. “Come on, sit down. I’ll explain, it’s just… I don’t know, you’ll think it’s foolish.” 

He did exactly as told, sitting cross-legged on the desk chair, with his tail draped over his knees. He picked his beer back up and clutched it with both hands in his lap, listening intently. 

“So, essentially what happened is that I started to panic because I’m a claustrophobe.” She paused to allow him to process the information. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak any Swahili.” he said after several seconds. 

She laughed again and sighed. “It’s not Swahili, it’s just a word that means I can’t handle small, enclosed spaces. It’s worse if it’s dark. I think it has to do with when my parents died. Remember how I told you I was trapped in rubble?” 

He nods solemnly. “Yes, I remember. I had no idea. I’m sorry to have put you through that.” 

She waved away his concern. “I didn’t tell you before, so you couldn’t know. A simple misunderstanding. The bigger question is how do you live in so small a space?” 

He shrugged and looked down at his beer, picking at the label. “I guess it doesn’t seem small to me? I grew up sleeping in a caravan less than half the size of this room with between three and five other people. I didn’t need the amount of space I had been given.” 

“I thought you and Scott were assigned roommates?” When it had become apparent that Kurt and Ororo would be staying at the institute, they were assigned to be roommates with Scott and Jean respectively, in the hopes that this would help them grow accustomed to the American way of life. 

“We, um, were not really compatible…” he said quietly, as if he were embarrassed. He tipped his head back to drain the last of his beer and reached for a second one. Ororo brought her legs up to sit cross legged on the edge of her bed and leaned towards him. 

“Go on…” 

Kurt chuckled slightly as he opened the second beer. “Oh, you know, normal roommate problems, I think. He’s a light sleeper, I’m a heavy sleeper. He would go to bed very early, sometimes even before the sun was completely down. I would go to bed later. He complained that I wandered around and talked to myself all night, I told him this was most likely just praying. But he claims I talk to myself when doing my homework, which I have the gall to do after he goes to bed!” He paused to take a large drink of his beer, having gotten considerably more animated as the conversation continued. Even as his hands stilled, his tail swished back and forth over the side of the chair. “And another thing! Don’t tell him I said this, but he snores very loudly!” 

Ororo laughed at Kurt’s seriousness in his final accusation. “Ha! Jean told us he snored!” 

Kurt became even more animated at the mention of Jean’s name, bringing himself up from a sitting position to perch on the chair with his feet on the seat and his back hunched. He pointed excitedly towards Ororo. “That’s another thing! Did you know that if a man puts a sock on his door knob, his roommate is supposed to know he has a woman with him, and stay away? Because Scott didn’t tell me this, I just came back after class and assumed he had issues with his chores, leaving socks everywhere. I walk into the room and, sure enough, he and Jean are already in there…” He pauses again to drink his beer as Ororo covers her mouth his her hands to stifle a laugh. 

“Goddess, I can’t believe she never told me this…” she muttered under her breath. 

“Anyway, I certainly didn’t want to see _THAT_ , and they certainly didn’t want to see me either, because Scott threw a shoe at me…” 

“What?!” exclaimed Ororo gleefully, laughing openly now. 

“And I still didn’t really understand the situation, because I caught it and threw it back to him. That wasn’t what he wanted.” 

“Oh no!” 

“ I tried explaining that not everyone understands this doorknob laundry code, but he wasn’t in the mood to listen. So I was banished to the hallway after being sworn at a lot. It was at that point that I found a storage closet and thought ‘This looks comfortable.’” 

Ororo took a few seconds to stop laughing, giggling between the last sips of her beer. She finally shook her head with a smile. “Jean would just tell me with words when she wanted me out of our room.” 

Kurt motioned his hand towards Ororo in appreciation. “See? That would have been so easy. My sister always told me that women were better communicators.” He reached into the tupperware and picked up another beer, offering it to her. He ripped the cap off when she nodded and handed it to her. “If that’s the case, then, why do you and Jean no longer share a room?” he asked with his head tilted. 

“No reason, really. We got along great, and she was a good roommate, but when I found that this part of the attic had a big window AND a skylight, I thought it was a waste to keep it full of boxes of paperwork and spare furniture. This way I can have my plants and sleep under the sky.” She motioned her hand in a circle around her, indicating the wide selection of house plants she had managed to accumulate in a short period of time. Some sat in pots on the floor, some hung from the rafters in baskets, and all together they gave her room a permanent earthy, sweet scent. 

Kurt leaned and twisted over the back of the desk chair to look at Ororo’s plants in a way that would cause most people to tip over, although his balance never wavered. Ororo found herself staring, thinking back to what Jubilee had said about the gymnasts and silently wishing she had X-ray vision. She considered that part of the reason she hadn’t noticed him before was because he seemed to go out of his way to avoid that kind of attention. He always dressed conservatively, and maintained clear physical boundaries between himself and other people, especially women. He was affectionate at times (Peter had joked that he thought Kurt’s Romani family had communicated mainly by hugging) but all physical interactions with him were always friendly and clearly chaste. But now, two beers deep and sitting in her bedroom on a Friday night, she stares at him, hoping that his inhuman position will cause his shirt to ride up. No such luck. She shakes her head and changes the subject. 

“So, please tell me you don’t sleep on the floor of a closet, now. I don’t think there was room for a bed in there.” He swings back around at the sound of her voice and smiles, clearly caught off-guard. 

“Ha, no! I think it was actually a small office at one point. There is a window, I just kept the blind closed. And I sleep in a hammock. You probably didn’t see it because it’s about a meter and a half off the floor.” 

“And that’s comfortable?” 

“Yes, very. It’s what I’m used to. And I always felt like I was going to roll off the beds here. You don’t find that?” 

“No, never! I love my bed! It’s a big upgrade from the mat on the floor I had I Egypt.” For emphasis, she bounced on the edge of her bed a couple times. He smirked at her enthusiasm. They both take a drink and she is reminded of the reason they’re even speaking at the moment. “Now, how is it you were able to get these beers in the first place?” 

Kurt’s face lights up. “Oh! Well…” he starts, before pausing, “You aren’t going to tell anyone, are you?” 

She can’t help but laugh. “Pfft, please…” she said before opening the drawer in her bedside table, removing a bottle of red wine that was three-quarters full and placing it on the table. “Your secret is safe with me.” 

His grin is back, and he starts again. “So you know the liquor store in the strip mall on Oak Street?” 

“Yes! That’s where I go! The man who owns it, Wesley, is a gem.” 

“Yes, I like him too. When I first walked in there, I didn’t realize that this ‘no alcohol under twenty-one years’ rule was actually enforced. It just seemed ridiculous to me. And because of my mutation, most people can’t tell if I’m fourteen or forty, so I didn’t think anything of it. So I walk in the store and start browsing, and he says,” Kurt changed his tone to a gruff, fake American accent, “’Son, just grab what you want and leave the cash on the counter, we don’t want no trouble,’” He changed back to his normal voice, “So I asked if the cash I had was enough for the beer I wanted, and he says,” He shifted back to the (really bad) American accent, “’Yes, just leave it on the counter and get out!’” He shot his arm out to point at an imaginary door for emphasis before continuing in his normal voice. “So I said ‘ _Danke_ , I was going to do that anyway!’ and off I go. Now he never says anything as long as I’m quick about it.” 

Ororo’s mouth hung open. “That’s so rude! He’s always been friendly to me, I can’t believe he’d treat you like that.” 

Kurt shrugged and looked away. “It’s not that bad, really. It’s not like he threw a bottle at my head or anything. He gets his money and I get my beer- what difference if we don’t stand around and chat about the weather?” 

Ororo didn’t know how to reply, and an uncomfortable silence fell over the room. She knew her own mutation had physical attributes, especially after her time as a Horseman. There certainly weren’t a lot of black women with snow-white hair and blue eyes walking around, and she often turned heads. But she couldn’t imagine having to live her whole life as obviously mutated as Kurt or some of the younger students. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel that ‘At least I didn’t get physically assaulted while shopping’ wasn’t a high enough standard by which to judge others. Finally, she resolved to change the subject, if only just to break the silence. 

“Now, _I_ can tell you aren’t fourteen or forty. But I realize I don’t actually know how old you are.” It was true. She had always assumed he was around the same age as the rest of the new X-men (minus Peter), but his mutation did make it difficult to tell. 

He leaned back in the chair and folded his arms, deep in thought. “Hmm, that is a good question.” A slight panic settled in her stomach. She hadn’t up until now considered that he could still be a minor. Her brain already started to dread the conversation that would ensue with Jean and Jubilee if that turned out to be the case. She snapped out of it when he leaned forward, having apparently come to a conclusion. 

“Well, according to what my foster mother has told me, I’m at least eighteen. I might be closer to eighteen-and-a-half, now that it’s late spring.” 

Ororo narrowed her eyes quizzically at him. “Why don’t you know your birthday? I mean, now that you’re here, can’t you just ask Raven?” 

Kurt looked down and laughed a little uncomfortably. “Well, the group of Romani I was raised by weren’t really ‘birthday’ people. My mother tells me she got me when there was a little snow on the ground, but that could be any time from late fall to early spring, depending on what part of Germany they were in at the time. Other than that, it doesn’t really come up. I never had a birth certificate or a driver’s license or paperwork of any kind until I came here- it just wasn’t required. My people seem to ‘slip under the radar’ as the saying goes, myself especially.” he explained, before taking a deep breath and continuing, “Besides, I tried to ask Raven about it once and she got all…” He trailed off, but waved his hands around his head to indicate his biological mother’s reaction. His parentage continued to be a sore subject for her. Ororo nodded in understanding, but again found herself without a proper response. She drained the last of her beer, but waved Kurt away when he silently pointed to his tupperware, asking if she wanted another. 

“Oh, thank you but no. But you’re more than welcome to try some of my wine.” she said, pulling the cork out of her bottle. He quickly drank the rest of his beer and nodded. 

“ _Ja_ , I’d like that. Most wine I tried in Germany was too sweet. It would be nice to have something different for a change.” 

“This one is a little sweet, but not overly so. Hand me that glass from the desk.” she said, and he did as instructed. “I hope you don’t mind, As Jubilee would say, I don’t have ‘cooties’” 

Kurt burst into laughter “Scott told me cooties were head lice!” 

“Ew! I thought they were just germs! Well, I assure you I also don’t have head lice.” 

“Even if you did, it wouldn’t stop me from drinking your wine.” he said with a smile. She poured some wine into both their glasses and handed his back to him. “ _Vielen Dank_.” He took a sip and nodded appreciatively. 

“Well, you can drink as much as you want, as long as you leave me with enough to get through this book.” she said, picking the much-loathed tome off of her bedspread and tossing it onto the desk next to Kurt. He briefly startles before picking it up and turning it over in this hands. 

“You’re reading _Moby-Dick_?” 

“I’m _trying_  to read _Moby-Dick_  for my English class. I have to write a report on it, and I can’t even get through the first quarter of it. It’s the worst.” She sighed and lay back on her bed again. “I feel so stupid, I just keep reading the same parts over and over and over… it makes no sense and it’s so boring and it’s all so _backwards_ …” She hadn’t intended to vent at him, but maybe it was the alcohol speaking. Or maybe it was the ever-increasing sense of comfort she felt around him. 

“Nobody thinks you’re stupid, Ororo. You’re the only reason I’ve been passing math. And you speak English so easily, you clearly understand the language.” he assured her, making reference to how she essentially had to tutor him in basic math skills when they first started classes. Neither had any formal schooling in the subject, but he had come from a mostly barter-based economy where people typically didn’t have to know exact amounts of things, and fractions more complicated than ‘something-and-a-half’ were irrelevant. Ororo, however, possessed an almost uncanny ability to do complicated math in her head, keep precise counts of almost anything, and estimate with alarming accuracy. It was likely due to her time as a thief, expected to meet certain quotas and figure out how much things could be fenced for. But, her natural skill was such that Dr. McCoy had said that if she had been raised in America, she could have tried out for something he called the “Math-Olympics,” which honestly didn’t sound that exciting. 

“Thank you, but…ugh…” was all she could muster. 

“Maybe you could tell me what you mean by ‘backwards?’” he offered, flipping through the book. She sat up and walked over to the desk, grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil. 

“See, I was taught to read Arabic. It’s written like this…” she started, writing out a line of neat, flowing script that started on the right side of the page and moved towards the left. “There. I just wrote the sentence ‘this is how Arabic is written and read.’ See how it’s right to left? Now, English is the opposite. It’s like this…” she continued, writing the sentence ‘This is how English is written and read’ on the sheet of paper under her Arabic writing. “So every time I read or write English, I have to concentrate on making sure I do it in the right direction, because I’m used to the opposite way. Normally it’s not too bad, but this book is so boring, I find myself getting distracted and catch myself reading sentences the wrong way without noticing, so I have to keep reading the same parts _over and over _,__  which is even _more boring_ , and it’s just going to take me forever to finish…” 

Kurt set the book down and nodded. “I think this is a _Moby-Dick_  problem, not an Ororo problem…” She turned around to lean back against the desk, next to where he was sitting, peering down at him expectantly. “I also tried to read this book before, and I had to give up because it’s just awful. And German and English are even written in the same direction, so I can sympathize with your struggle.” 

“You read _Moby-Dick_  before?” 

“ _Ach_ , not really. Like I said, an attempt was made. It’s all just boring men on boats. The whale is a metaphor or something like that. I gave up. Does it have to be this book you read for the class, or could it be a different one?” 

Ororo shrugged. “It has to be classic English literature, and novel-length. And I have to be able to write a report on it in about a week and a half. I’m not really familiar with English literature as a topic, so I just picked the first book that I knew I had heard of before.” 

Kurt’s face lit up and he stood up, “Wait right here! I think I can help!” he said excitedly, motioning for her to stay still with both hands. She opened her mouth to question him, but before her words get out, he disappeared with a loud ‘BAMF’ and a burst of blue-black smoke. Seconds and then minutes ticked by with no sign of him. Eventually, she got bored leaning against her desk and moved back to her bed, this time propping up her pillows and sitting up against them with her legs stretched out. She sipped her wine and flipped through an old Cosmo with some big-haired supermodel on it. The cover promised that the secrets to great sex and tight buns were inside, but so far it was mainly cosmetics ads. 

After what felt like an eternity but was actually probably around fifteen minutes, Kurt reentered the room in the same place and with the same noise and spectacle he exited with. An aura of excitement poured off him as he literally hopped into Ororo’s bed next to her outstretched legs, settling cross-legged at her hip, facing her. 

“Sorry! I forgot where it was, so it took me longer to find it!” he exclaimed, thrusting his hand towards her, clutching a worn paperback book. She picked the book out of his large, three-fingered hand and turned it over. ‘ _Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus_  by Mary Shelley’ was written on the cover. 

“I think I’ve heard of this one. Is this the one where the monster has bolts in his neck and goes ‘Arrgg!’” she asked, holding both arms out straight ahead of her. 

“Sort of, that’s from the movie. The movie’s different from the book, so we could always watch it later, but it would be good to finish your report first, so you don’t get them mixed up…” he explained. “This was one of my favorite books when I was growing up. I read it so many times, and I was very excited when I found that it was also available in English here.” 

“I would guess if the author’s name is Mary Shelley, that it was probably originally written in English…” Ororo pointed out. 

“This is true. Anyway, I think you might like it. You like science fiction, _ja_? I’ve seen you watching the Star Trek reruns and that sort of thing. This is basically the first major science fiction novel ever. It has it all: mad science, monsters, corpses, murder, forbidden romance, international travel, complex moral problems. It’s all in there. And it’s written by a young lady around our age, which I thought you might appreciate…” He seems to realize he’s rambling and trails off before continuing, “I thought that if there was something interesting going on in the book, you wouldn’t find yourself re-reading the same parts over and over, because you’d have motivation to read through to the next section…” He again realizes he’s rambling, and also that he’s centimeters away from actually being in her lap. He looks away, and begins to move away from her, at least to scoot out of her ‘personal bubble.’ She reaches out before he can, placing her hand over his, which rested on his knee. She curled her slender fingers over the heavy knuckle of his second digit, and he froze entirely. Only when she spoke to him did his head snap upwards to face her, seemingly mesmerized by her gaze. 

“Kurt, thank you, really! You’ve been a great help, and it does sound like a fascinating book. At the very least it’s shorter, and it can’t be any worse!” she said, giving his hand a slight squeeze. 

He shrugged bashfully. “It’s least I can do after all the time you spent helping me in math…” 

“I was glad to help, there was no debt between us. Although I may take you up on that offer of watching the movie after I finish my report!” She smiled warmly, still holding his hand on his lap. He holds her gaze, and opens his mouth to say something when a sudden, tickling sensation encircles her knee, forcing her to interrupt him in surprise. “Oh!” 

She looks down to find that his tail had snaked it’s way around her knee, squeezing it gently. The warmth of it was detectable through the thin black denim of her pants. When he notices, Kurt’s eyes grow wide with horror and he quickly wrenches his hand away from hers to reign in the wayward appendage. She can feel his embarrassment, and notices that his ears have turned purple again. 

“ _Gott im Himmel!_ I am sorry! I don’t…” he rambles in a panic, clutching his tail to his chest. 

Ororo leans forward and grabs both his shoulders. _ _“__ Kurt, calm down. It’s fine, it didn’t bother me at all, okay?” He does seem to calm somewhat, and she can feel the tension in his shoulders decreasing. 

“It sort of has a mind of it’s own…” he attempted to explain, still clutching his tail to him. 

“Does it have it’s own mind, or does it have your mind, but bolder?” she teased with a smirk, removed her hands from his shoulders and crossing them in front of her chest. 

He smiled tentatively, finally able to see the humor in the situation. “Either way, it mainly serves to get me in some kind of trouble…” He lowered his tail from his chest down to his lap, but did not relinquish his grip on it. 

Ororo stared into his eyes, daring him to look away. Crystal blue versus unearthly amber. She reached both hands into his lap and wrapped her fingers around where his hands met his tail, leaning towards him. Low and breathy, she said “A little trouble isn’t going to kill you.” with a knowing smile. 

An unreadable expression crosses his face, and for a fraction of a second she can’t tell if he’s going to try and lean in to kiss her or vanish into a cloud of smoke. Finally, a slight, warm smile settles on his lips and he leans slightly, almost imperceptibly, closer. They stare at each other what was likely only a couple seconds but what feels like longer, until he suddenly sighs and looks away. 

“Well, it’s late and I should probably go…” he said, sounding slightly regretful. Ororo is startled by the sudden announcement, but is relived when he actually stands and starts walking towards her door instead of just teleporting away. She glances at her alarm clock- he’s not wrong. It’s almost 1 A.M. and they all have training early in the morning. 

She stands and follows him to her door. “Are you still able to help me with my gardening tomorrow, after lunch maybe?” 

He opens her door and steps down the first step before turning back to her. “Of course! Rain or shine.” he said with a nod and a wide, friendly grin. 

She returns the grin and stands in her doorway, holding the door open for him. “Take my word for it. It will be ‘Shine.’” It may not be the first time they shared this joke. 

“Ha! Well, _Gute Nacht! _”__ He turns to leave, and she realizes she isn’t ready for him to go yet. So she acts on impulse, reaching out to cup the side of his face furthest from her and leaning in to plant a quick, but not altogether innocent, kiss on the opposite cheek. When she pulls back, she hesitates to move her hand. She finds his eyes wide and staring side-on, his expression suggesting that his brain is working like a machine where the gears are spinning wildly but not actually catching. 

__“__ Thanks for the beer!” she said, mainly just to make sure he still has some grasp on reality. That seemed to pull him back into the real world. 

“Anytime!” he responds with his usual friendly smile and slight nod. And then he hopped down the last few steps before disappearing into smoke and noise.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a line from the song "Self Control" by Laura Branigan, released in 1984. The full lyric is "I live among the creatures of the night, I haven't got the will to try and fight"
> 
> The parts about Kurt and Ororo's pasts are mostly paraphrased from the comics. The part about Scott being a snorer is all mine.


	3. Burning Down the House

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men do lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty tame chapter. Everyone hangs out.

“Okay, guys, last call for fries! If you want fries, better tell me know, cuz they’re going in the oven!” Scott called out over the din of people preparing lunch in the kitchen. 

“Scott, just cook the whole bag. They’ll get eaten. People will eat them just cuz they’re there. Don’t make it complicated.” Jubilee complained while leaning against the counter next to the oven. 

“When you’re on ‘fry’ duty, you can make the ‘fry’ decisions. It’s just wasteful to have a surplus.” Scott pointed out while putting the pan of fries in the oven and setting the timer. Jubilee rolled her eyes and walked off to go be bored somewhere else. 

“I don’t even know why this type of lettuce exists. It’s watery and flavorless. My lettuce will put it to shame.” Ororo said while while tearing iceberg lettuce into sandwich-sized pieces and rinsing it. “These tomatoes are only marginally better.” 

“If you keep talking about vegetables, I’m going to buy you a straw hat and start calling you ‘Farmer ‘Ro.’” Jean called out while using her powers to fish a trapped piece of toast out of the toaster. 

“I would actually love that.” 

“You would.” 

Meanwhile, Kurt, who is on ‘bacon’ duty, moves a couple of cooked strips to a plate with paper towel on it before adding a couple raw slices to the pan. Peter appears to his immediate right without warning, leaning around his shoulder and motioning towards the pan. 

“Hey dude, wanna make mine, like, extra crispy?” 

“Sure, Peter, no problem.” 

“Like, extra-extra-really crispy?” 

“Of course.” 

“Like, _soooo_ super crispy, like basically burnt, like cut the roof of your mouth crispy?”

“That sounds unpleasant, but I can do it.” 

Peter claps his hand over Kurt’s shoulder and gives it a hearty shake. “Thanks bro! And can I have a few extra pieces while you’re at it?” 

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Peter skeptically. “I can do all this, but it’s going to take much longer. You’ll have to wait.”   

“No, man, that’s the beauty of it! If you turn the heat up twice as high, it’ll cook twice as fast!” Peter exclaimed, holding his arms up in celebration of this life-changing discovery. 

Kurt shook his head. “Just once, I would like us to have a meal without setting off the smoke detector.” 

“Peter, stop bugging Kurt and set the table!” Scott called out from across the kitchen. 

Peter set his hand on his hip and leaned against the counter. “No can do, bro. Jubes and me are on dishes duty tonight, that means we don’t have to help with lunch.” Jubilee snapped her fingers and pointed at Peter without looking up from the old recipe book she had been flipping thorough. 

“Why don’t you do it, Scott? You’re just standing there waiting for the timer to go off.” Jubilee added before blowing an obnoxiously large bubble with her bubble gum. 

Scott seemed to glare at Jubilee (the glasses made it hard to tell for sure) and set his jaw, attempting to wrack his brain for a response. “Ugh, fine.” he finally said when he couldn’t think of one, and started pulling condiments out of the fridge. 

Once the table was set and the food was done cooking, everyone started to sit down and fix themselves BLT sandwiches. Jean had started spreading mayo on her toast when Kurt leaned over her and set two plates of bacon on the table- one was cooked perfectly, the other was seemingly stacked with charcoal. 

“Jeez, Kurt, what the hell happened there?” she exclaimed, pointing towards the plate of blackened meat. 

“Peter insisted. I don’t like it anymore than you do.” he replied before sitting next to her. Peter quickly appeared in the next seat and excitedly dumped the whole plate of burnt bacon onto his plate with his fries and toast. 

“Perfect! Thanks, dude, just like Mom used to make…” He rubbed his hands together gleefully before starting to randomly eat the food on his plate, apparently lacking the patience to construct a sandwich. Kurt waved off Peter’s praise before clasping his hands, lowering his head, muttering to himself for a few seconds, and then crossing himself. 

Jubilee picked up the ketchup bottle and held it over her fries while tapping the bottom. The ketchup was in no hurry to come out. “So, like, am I the only one who’s going to forget almost everything from that lecture this morning? I had no idea guns were so complicated and boring.” she said, mainly out of boredom. The morning’s training session had been an extensive sit-down lecture about firearms, firearm identification and neutralization, and casualty prevention. The X-Men didn’t use guns as a rule, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t encounter them in the field. 

“I’m still getting used to the idea that we have to assume that basically everyone in this country is armed at all times.” Kurt said, as he added a dollop of mayo next to his fries. 

“Not only armed, but likely better armed than law enforcement.” Ororo added with a point of her finger. Kurt nodded in agreement.   

“Well, I mean, there’s guns for hunting, guns for military use, guns for protection…” Scott started, counting on his fingers. 

“Protection from what, exactly?” Ororo quizzed as she put her sandwich together. 

“Oh, I dunno. People get guns to protect themselves from criminals, wild animals, government overreach…” Scott replied. 

“And mutants. Us. You know that, right?” Jean interjected with intense seriousness. Everyone stopped eating and stared, waiting for Scott to respond. 

Peter, as usual, could not tolerate seriousness in any form for any amount of time. He reached his arms around the shoulder of both people sitting beside him and gave them both a friendly shake. It happened to be Kurt and Jubilee, who both eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t worry, guys. I’m way too fast to get shot at, so I’ll protect you!” 

“Well I don’t think even you could protect all of us all the time, which is why we need to have this stupid lecture in the first place.” Jean said. Peter shrugged and kept eating. Jubilee went back to tapping her ketchup bottle, which had yet to relinquish any ketchup. “Oh, here…” Jean said with a sigh and wave of her hand, causing a glob of ketchup to plop out of the bottle at long last. 

“Sweet! Thanks!” 

“So, uh, Kurt, were things really that different about guns in the GDR?” Scott asked, mainly to ensure that attention was directed away from himself. 

“Yes, very. For example, if you wanted to commit an armed robbery, you had to fill out a form and wait your turn. But if all you wanted was to get shot to death, you could probably just get the _Stasi_ to do it.” Kurt replied before taking a bite of sandwich, leaving it ambiguous as to whether or not he was being sarcastic. “But that said, I knew a man who traveled with us who welded his own gun out of scraps, old car parts and the like. He mainly used it to hunt wild boar and deer, so we could have meat when on the road or when business was slow.” 

“Dude, I’m never going to get over how weird your childhood was…” Scott replied. 

Kurt shrugged. “It didn’t seem odd at the time. Everyone’s upbringing seems strange when you aren’t the one who lived it. For example, you told me yesterday that you never had a pet growing up. I found that to be very strange.” Again, everyone stopped eating and looked towards Scott. 

“What? No dog or cat?” Peter questioned. 

“No…” Scott replied. 

“A goldfish or a guinea pig?” Jubilee added. 

“Nope.” 

“Perhaps a houseplant, such as a Venus Flytrap?” Ororo pressed on. 

“No clue what that is, so no.” Scott said with an exasperated shrug and a shake of his head. 

“Well why not? Didn’t you ask for a puppy or kitten growing up? I thought that was an American tradition, trying to get your parents to buy you a pet…” Jubilee insisted. 

Jean laughed, having already known this about Scott. “Guys, Scott’s what people call a ‘change of life baby,’ he kind of came as a surprise when his parents were older, so they just didn’t have the time or energy to devote to additional creatures…” 

“Exactly!” Scott exclaimed, glad to not have to be the one who put it into words. 

“Well, I don’t know what I would have done without my cat growing up, he was my best friend.” Jubilee said. “His name is Mittens and he’s still alive, he’s, like, twenty-one! I also had a hamster for a while but they, uh...didn’t get along…” she added, making a face towards the end. 

“We also had a cat! We called her _Schatzi_ and she would lay on my pillow and play with my hair when I slept…” Kurt said. 

“Heh, in Soviet Germany, cat pets you…” Peter said to himself. 

“There had to have been other animals in the circus.” Jean pointed out. 

Kurt nodded. “ _Ja_ , Schatzi was ours only, but there were many cats that traveled with us, they kept pests away. We also had several dogs, some that did tricks and some that guarded the caravans. There were several horses as well. And when I was young, there was also a monkey and a lion.” 

“Omigod, a lion! That’s so cool!” Jubilee squealed. “Tell me about the lion!” 

Kurt leaned back and smiled. “This was a long time ago. The lion would only listen to his trainer, Hans. Hans had raised him since he was very small.” he explained, holding his hands apart from each other to demonstrate an object the size of a bread loaf. “One day the lion had a stomach ache and Hans was very worried, so he wanted to stay with him in his pen at night. Now, even though I was young, I thought to myself ‘This man is not going to be there tomorrow.’ But the next morning, we wake up to find that they had uh… done this…” He paused and wrapped his arms around himself, unable to think of the word he wanted. “You know…hugging while sleeping? All night.” 

Jubilee held her hands to her mouth. “Aw! They snuggled!” 

Kurt pointed enthusiastically. “Yes! Snuggle.” Jubilee couldn’t contain her grin. 

“What about the monkey? They’re pretty funny.” Peter asked. 

Kurt made a face. “I did not care for him. Rude creature.” 

“When I was little we actually had a collie named Lassie! Later, we had a golden retriever named Goldie!” Jean said with a bright smile. 

“I am not surprised at all.” Ororo said, motioning towards Jean with a fry in her hand. 

“Well, what did you have?” Jean replied. 

“We had cats, many cats. We didn’t own them, they owned themselves. But we fed them and they were friendly.” 

“What about you, Peter?” Scott asked, noticing him to be uncharacteristically quiet. 

“Uh, I had a turtle…” Peter said quietly, not looking up from his plate. 

Scott burst into laughter. “What? You, a turtle? You GOT to be kidding!” 

“Nope.” 

“What did you call it?” Jubilee asked. 

“Shelly.” 

This caused the laughter to spread to the rest of the group. When it died down, Jean turned to Peter and said “So, turtles live, like, eighty years. Where’s Shelly now?” 

“Uuuhhmmm…” 

“You don’t need to answer if it’s difficult for you to talk about, Peter.” Kurt assured him. 

“Uh, no it’s fine. She ran away.” Most people tried to at least restrain their laughter, resulting in more than one person snorting or almost choking on their food. 

“Oh, Peter…” Ororo had the decency to console him, while trying really, really hard not to smile. 

Jubilee was the exception to the rule. “What the fuck!” she squeaked through uncontrollable giggles. “How the fuck does that happen to _****you****_?” 

“I dunno, man! I just set her down on the lawn to chill in the sun, and I looked away, and then she was gone!” Peter went on the defensive, holding up his hands. “This was like, fifteen years ago!” 

“Back in your old neighborhood, a turtle is _just now_  turning the corner of the block you lived on, looking back and saying ‘Thank fuck! I think I finally lost him!’” Jubilee was just barely able to get the words out before delving back into hysterical laughter. 

“Okay, yes, I get it, it’s ironic…” Peter muttered. 

“Okay, so, it might be weird that I never had a pet as a kid, but I have one now. There’s a dog around here somewhere.” Scott said, changing the subject. 

“That’s not your dog, hon…” Jean replied. 

“It’s a dog in a house that I live in. That counts.” Scott insisted. 

“Nope. Although I don’t really know who’s dog that is…” Jean said. 

“You mean that little smooshy-faced one? I always assumed it was the Professor’s dog.” Jubilee added. 

“I as well, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him talk to it or look at it.” Ororo said after some consideration. 

“Could it be Doctor McCoy’s dog?” Kurt wondered out loud. 

“Pfft, I doubt it. If it was Hank’s dog, we’d all have to sit through a three-hour lecture detailing how he sequenced the dog’s genome in order to prove scientifically that this dog is, in fact, the best-est boy in the whole world.” Scott explained. The rest nodded in agreement. 

“Maybe it’s Raven’s dog?” Jean suggested. 

Kurt burst into a brief laughing fit before shaking his head while scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t really think of Raven as a dog person…” 

Scott shrugged. “Maybe one of the students brought their dog with them, and no one’s said anything so it keeps living here…” 

Peter snapped his fingers. “I got it! What if the dog __IS__  a student, like a mutant shape-shifter who prefers to live as a dog!” 

“Cuz, I mean, who would want to be human if you could be a dog instead? I think you’re on to something!” Scott added excitedly. 

“Holy shit! It better not be a student! I’ve gotten changed in front of that dog! That dog’s seen me naked!” Jubilee exclaimed, panic creeping into her expression. 

Peter laughed. “Well that settles it! That dog is _definitely_  a student!” He leaned back in his chair with his hands behind his head. “It probably has a monthly article in, like, _Hustler_  or something, too. Like ‘Undercover in Sexy Co-Ed Mutant School.’ Like, ‘Day eight-hundred and forty-seven: The girls had a pillow fight! Someone dropped pepperoni on the floor! They still think I’m a dog so they don’t mind when I sniff their crotches…’” 

“Gross!” Jubilee yelled and smacked him on the chest, which did nothing to stop his laughter. 

“Peter, if the dog had an article in _Hustler_ , I’m sure you would know about it already…” Ororo pointed out. 

“ _Touché_. Anyway, student or not, I say we call him ‘Fluffernutter’ and he’s ours now, until someone else comes to claim him.” Peter said with a nod. 

“See? I have a dog.” Scott said to Jean. Jean simply rolled her eyes.   

“In other news, my spider plant had babies! Would anyone like one?” Ororo said excitedly. Glances of confusion were exchanged around the table. 

“I understood nothing about that sentence, and I still think it’s the worst thing ever. Are the babies spiders or plants? Did it lay eggs?” Peter asked, looking puzzled and a little disgusted. 

“No, Peter. A spider plant is a common houseplant. It’s easy to care for, has long, light-green streaked leaves, and reproduces by producing smaller plants off long tendrils that hang from it. It also detoxifies the air in the room it’s in, so I’d suggest you get one for your bedroom.” Ororo explained gently with her hands folded on the table. 

“Ouch, okay, my room’s not toxic and you can keep your stupid plant. Nobody likes spiders anyway.” Peter shot back. 

Ororo shrugged. “Anybody else?” 

“I’ll take one.” Kurt offered, holding one finger up. 

“Excellent! Now, you’re going to have to keep it next to your window and leave your blind open, it needs light to thrive.” she explained carefully. 

“Of course.” 

“And it needs to be watered often, but not too much. The soil should be moist, but not boggy, and never completely dry. Can you do that?” she continued, with increasing intensity and with her hands laced together. 

“Um, _ja_ , sure, no problem.” Kurt answered after a second’s hesitation. 

“And I’ll be giving it to you in a small cup, but it will grow quickly and will soon need to be transplanted to a larger pot, to prevent it from becoming root-bound and choking itself.” 

“How will I know when to transplant it?” 

“I’ll tell you. I’ll come and check on it every so often, to make sure it’s doing okay.” 

“Ooookay… do I need to sing it a song before bedtime?” 

“No. That might kill it.” 

Kurt frowned, completely unsure as to whether Ororo was joking or not. She paid him no mind and turned to Scott instead. 

“How about you, Scott? Would you like to finally know the joy of nurturing another living thing?” 

“Ha! No way! That sounds like a ** **ton****  of responsibility I don’t need…” He leaned the chair back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Besides, I just got a dog so I’m going to be busy!” He was just barely able to keep his balance when Jean scoffed and shoved him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title refers to a Talking Heads song of the same name from 1983. It also refers to the X-Men's cooking skill.


	4. The Green Grass Grows All Around, All Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ororo and Kurt do some gardening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and sweet chapter. Pretty tame unless you hate bugs.

Ororo stood at the side of her garden and swept her hand over an area indicating half of it. “I’ll start over here with some weeding and light pruning. We don’t have time to get into too much detail before our next training session, so I mainly need you on pest and weed duty with the lettuce, and maybe the radishes if we have time.” 

Kurt nodded. “ _Jawohl!_ ” he said, and started rolling up his sleeves. 

“Sorry?” 

“Oh, sorry. It’s just yes, but like, a big yes.” 

“Great!” 

They hunkered down in their respective sections of the garden, quietly snipping twigs and digging out weeds. After they pass several minutes in comfortable silence, Ororo can hear Kurt mutter “Huh.” She looks over her shoulder to find that he had rocked back onto his heels and was peering at a plant, confused. 

“Need a hand?” she called out to him. 

“No, I don’t think so. Is it the  _Marienkäfer_ we are supposed to leave alone? Or the spiders?” he asks, head slightly tilted. When she returns the look of confusion, he corrects himself. “I mean the red ones, with the little spots.” 

“Oh, a ladybug?” she asks. He nods. “Yes, leave them be. They eat other bugs. And leave the spiders, too, for the same reason. And leave the bees alone, as well, and the earthworms. You can kill the wasps, though.” 

“Ha! If I see a wasp, I’m running away.” 

“And leave me to fend for myself? That’s not very heroic of you.” 

“I signed up to spend time outdoors and play with the snails. Getting my face bitten by flying _Teufel_ was not part of the deal.” he said with a lighthearted laugh. “Besides, you could just freeze or electrocute them, you hardly need me to save you.” He got back to work, head lowered to the ground.

She glared at him and pointed. “THAT’S not the point.” she said in a mock-stern tone. He laughed her off, and several seconds ticked by, until something he had said previously came back to mind. “Wait…what did you mean when you said you signed up to play with snails?” she asked suspiciously. 

“Oh, nothing…” he muttered guiltily, refusing to look up. 

“Kurt…” 

“Yes…?” he finally glanced up and found her staring at him, arms folded. He hoped a friendly smile and a shrug would satisfy her, but she was stubborn. She glared at him up and down, until something caught her eye. 

“Kurt, what do you have in your hand?” 

“Um…some snails. About five snails.” He held his hand out to her, showing the collection of small brownish snails. All were housed in their shells, except one that slowly crawled across his palm. He looked like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“What are you keeping them for?” she questioned, now thoroughly confused. 

“Oh, I just look at them for a while and set them free by the woods over there…” he explained, pointing to an area probably two hundred meters away. 

“You release them? Why? They’re _snails!_ ” she demanded, unsure of whether she should laugh or be mad. 

“I like them! They have cute eyes and pretty shells. Why? What do you do with them?” He closed his fist gently and turned his hand over as the wayward snail made it’s way across his knuckle. He peered at Ororo with a mix of curiosity and concern. 

“Ha! I usually try to see if I can hit the gardening shed from here!” she said with a wicked grin. To demonstrate, she picked up a snail-sized pebble and quickly hurled it at the small shed, making a dramatic fist-pump gesture when the loud ‘Ping’ indicated she had hit her target. 

Kurt gasped. “That’s unnecessary!” 

She set her hands on her hips. “What? The way you do it, they just march back over here and keep wrecking my crops!” 

“March!? Please, Ororo, they are so slow!” he pleaded, “It would take ages, perhaps lifetimes from their perspective, to make it back here. All they need are plants to eat, and there are plenty over where I have been leaving them.” 

She raised her eyebrow skeptically at him, and briefly considered that she was being played. However, she finally concluded that his request was reasonable enough, and his expression sincere enough for that to be almost impossible. She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Ugh, fine. Just make sure they’re far away.” 

His face lit up, and his impossibly-toothy grin was back. “ _Danke!_ ” he said with a polite nod, and put his head back down to continue working. 

She watched him continue weeding the garden, completely undisturbed by the snail now moving up his forearm. She wondered if he directed this same intense level of concern at everything he cared about, or if snails unique in some way. She shook her head mockingly and sighed loudly. “Kurt Wagner- friend to all living things.” 

He laughed and looked back up to her. “Not all living things! I was pretty clear about how I feel about wasps.” his eyes moved across his surroundings, and he reached for something nestled deep within some immature lettuce leaves. “And I guess I don’t care as much for the naked snail.” 

“The WHAT?” she managed to asked between laughter. 

“I don’t know if that's what they’re called here. That’s what I learned that it was called. A naked snail.” he rushed to explain himself. He held out the hand that also contained the snails. “This thing.” 

Ororo squinted at the gross yellow slug in his hand. “That’s called a slug.” 

“A _slug?_ Ew. I don’t care for it. An unfortunate name for an unfortunate creature.” 

“That’s pretty harsh coming from someone named ‘Nightcrawler’” she joked. 

He smiled slightly and looked back to the ground. “Heh, well. An unfortunate name for an unfortunate creature.”   

“Besides,” she redirected, “What is a slug if not a snail that has fallen on hard times- naked, downtrodden, and homeless!” 

He scoffed, then laughed and tried to act annoyed. “Thank you, Ororo. Now I feel bad.” 

“I’m pretty sure a man who’s spent his afternoon protecting snails from my wrath doesn’t have anything to feel bad about.” 

“Unless they march back here and destroy your garden out of spite.” he added with a nod. 

“Then _I’LL_  give you something to feel bad about.” 

They both laughed when he pretended to hide under his arms with a slight yelp. They went back to work, falling again into comfortable silence, until Kurt sat back on his heels and opened his hand to study the snails still gathered there. He plucked the wayward one off the hem of his sleeve and returned it to the pile of it’s brethren. 

“You know, Ororo…” he said after much consideration, “There is something we _could_ do with the snails, that would keep everyone happy…” 

She raised her eyebrow and folded her arms, giving him her full attention. This should be good. “I’m listening…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a lyric from an old nursery rhyme/folk song commonly called "And The Green Grass Grew All Around." I wanted to find a period-appropriate song about snails, but unfortunately I was unable to. :(
> 
> Also, the German word for slug is Nacktschnecke, which literally means "naked snail." Now, according to Google translate, there are, like, 15 other words for slug, so please forgive me if this isn't the most commonly used one.


	5. Don’t Give a Damn ‘Bout My Reputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls hit the showers and discuss their weekend plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whole lotta talk about dicks in this chapter.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” 

“Jubes, you gotta stop.” 

“Fuck off, I know what I’m doing.” 

“It says right on the package not to do that.” Jean fetched the Q-Tip box and pointed out the part that clearly stated not to stick them in your ears. “You’re going to perforate your eardrum.” 

“Oh, bullshit. This is the only thing that actually gets your ears clean.” Jubilee waved her away and continued jamming the Q-Tip way farther into her ear than one would normally think was possible. 

“Jubilee, your ears were clean five minutes ago. This is just excessive.” Ororo said, observing how Jubilee couldn’t help but let her eyes roll back as she continued to ‘clean’ her ears. 

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it!” Jubilee called out. “Plus, I’m pretty fuckin’ sure my G-spot’s in there…” 

“Oh, come on!” Jean cried, as Ororo threw her hands up in exasperation and walked away. 

The girls had just hit the showers after a particularly intense practice session, which was a follow-up to the morning’s training about firearms. The session had mostly consisted of learning and practicing how to non-lethally disarm a person in a variety of scenarios, including with and without use of powers. It had been more difficult than expected. 

“I can’t fucking believe Raven pistol-whipped me.” Jean complained loudly. She lifted up the edge of the towel she had wrapped herself in to display the large, spreading, purple bruise on her thigh. 

“Well, when you consider that- in real life- people normally get pistol-whipped in the head or face- you could count yourself lucky you’re not in Hank’s office right now, getting your teeth put back in.” Jubilee said while combing her hair in the mirror. 

“I could have easily gotten the gun off her with my powers.” Jean added, annoyed. 

“Well, duh. But that’s not the point. The point of the exercise was to not use your powers.” Jubilee continued. 

“I could have even used my powers to make her think I _didn’t_ use my powers, and she’d be none the wiser…” Jean rambled, as if to herself. 

“Yeah, but that’d be cheap as hell.” 

Jean rolled her eyes. “The point is that I have a date tonight, and I was going to wear this really cute short skirt. But now I have this huge, hideous, bruise so I have to wear dark pantyhose, and probably look like a secretary or something…” 

“Scott’s seen your legs before. He’s not going to think it’s a big purple birthmark.” Ororo attempted to reassure her while getting herself dressed. 

“Well, yeah, but the last thing I need is some nosy waitress pulling me aside to ask if someone’s been beating me.” 

“I like that we live in a society where women look out for each other.” Ororo said pleasantly. 

“Besides, you can just tell ‘Nosy Nelly’ the truth- someone _has_ been beating you. A naked blue chick pistol-whipped you. That should set her mind at ease!” Jubilee added as she rooted through her gym bag. 

“Yep, I’m sure that would clear everything right up.” Jean said sarcastically. “So now I get to wear these stupid black pantyhose, and they’re essentially a straight-jacket for your legs. Nothing kills the romance faster than having to say ‘Hey, honey, just wait here while I take ten minutes to wrestle myself out of my own underwear with all the grace and allure of a buffalo…’” she rambled. 

“Don’t you own thigh-high stockings?” Jubilee asked. 

“Uh, no.” 

“Well you should. They cover your legs like pantyhose, but they only come up to your mid thigh. You can get ones that stay up on their own, or ones that you can clip on to a garter belt. And for some reason, like ninety percent of guys are obsessed with them. Like, instant-boner obsessed. They really drive them nuts.” Jubilee explained while putting on her deodorant. 

“That sounds perfect! Do you own a pair?” 

“Duh! You can get them in all kinds of colors and patterns and stuff…I have a few pairs.” 

“Can I borrow some?” Jean asked, her eyes bright and hopeful. 

Jubilee threw her head back and laughed. “Hahaha! No, Jean, you can’t borrow my thigh-highs. I’m not going to lend you clothes that I know you’re gonna go have sex in.” 

“Aw, come on! Please?” Jean pleaded with Jubilee with her hands pressed together. 

“Ew, no! The begging makes it worse!” 

“Ugh, you’re no fun!” 

Jubilee went back to rummaging through her gym bag. “Actually, you’ll find that I’m a barrel of fun!” She continued digging deep into the recesses of her gym bag, until her face lit when she finally found what she was looking for. “Speaking of which, which bra would be better to seduce a guy with?” She held up the two options for Jean and Ororo’s appraisal. “This one, I think, is prettier and is, like, more my color…” she said, shaking a lacy purple demi-cup, “But this one gives the ‘girls’ a bit more of a boost…” she added, shaking a simpler black satin bra. 

Jean stared at Jubilee in disbelief. “Holy shit, you’re actually gonna do this tonight?” 

Jubilee shrugged. “No time like the present! We’ll be all sudsy together during dish duty…” 

“Blech. Nothing like touching soggy food chunks to get the motor runnin’…” Jean said, disgusted. 

“For your information, I always wear dish gloves.” 

“Sexy.” 

Jubilee stuck her tongue out at Jean. Ororo paused after putting her lightening-bolt earrings back in and cleared her throat. “Jubilee, did you want my honest opinion on the bras?” 

“Yep! Wouldn’t have asked otherwise!” Jubilee turned to Ororo to give her undivided attention. 

“My opinion? Don’t wear one. You don’t need it. At least as long as you don’t plan on running up too many flights of stairs.” Ororo explained with a slight nod when she finished. 

“Is this your way of telling me I have small boobs? Cuz I’m pretty sure I gotta wear a bra.” Jubilee replied, crossing her arms and raising her eyebrow. 

“No, of course not. I think you’re perfectly proportioned to your frame. I just feel that oftentimes, we women feel we have to wear bras in order to restrain the natural curves of our bodies, as if we are supposed to be embarrassed that we have nipples and that our breasts actually bounce. Our natural forms are just as- if not more- sensual and beautiful than anything that’s strapped down or pushed up by Playtex or Victoria’s Secret.” 

Jubilee stared at Ororo, unimpressed. “Okay, ‘Ro, so you know I, like, LOVE these righteous feminist rants you go on, like, every couple of days. But I just need someone to tell me ‘purple’ or ‘black’” 

Ororo shrugged and looked away. “You wanted my opinion and I gave it.” 

“Jubes, can I burrow your Crimper later?” Jean asked, without looking up from toweling off her hair. 

“No, you can’t borrow my Crimper, Jean.” 

“Why not? Who made you the Hair-Crimper gate keeper? I’ll bring it right back when I’m done.” 

Jubilee sighed. “Jean, I get to be the gate keeper because it’s my Crimper. And I can’t, in good faith, lend it to you when I know you’d look so ridiculous with crimped hair. Just leave your hair the way it is, it looks fine.” 

Jean scoffed indignantly. “Well, I think I’d look good with crimped hair.” 

Jubilee shrugged. “Well, you’re wrong.” 

“If you lend me your Crimper, I’ll tell you which bra to wear.” 

Jubilee looked upwards, deep in thought, for several seconds. “Hmmm…. Nope. Not worth it. I’ll just flip a coin.” 

“Another thing to consider about the bras,” Ororo piped in, “is that men generally hate them. They find them confusing and frustrating. Even the fanciest, sexiest bras are just an obstacle to them. A lack of a bra, on the other hand, would be a nice surprise.” 

“In Jubes’ defense…” Jean started, “if we stopped wearing types of clothing that men found frustrating or confusing, we’d all be completely naked twenty-four-seven.” 

Jubilee nodded in agreement. “Yeah! And, ‘Ro, you gotta admit it’s a little hard to take you seriously when you rant against bras while currently wearing a really pretty bra.” Jubilee motioned towards Ororo, who was in fact wearing a lacy black bra. She had almost finished dressing, but had stopped before putting her shirt on to put her earrings in. 

“Hmm… is that so?” Ororo locked eyes with Jubilee. She reached behind herself, unclipped her bra and slid the straps off her shoulders. She tossed the garment in her gym bag without looking away from Jubilee. She snagged her black sleeveless T-shirt and pulled it on over her head. “There. Happy?” 

“...Nice.” Jubilee breathed quietly. “I mean, yeah, okay, I can kinda see where you’re coming from. I’m still gonna wear a bra, though.” 

“And no sudden movements, or you’ll give yourself two black eyes!” Jean laughed. Ororo shook her head and smiled.   

“What we have here, ‘Ro, is an opportunity to conduct an experiment! I’ll wear a bra, probably the purple one I guess, when I hang out with Peter later. You go- with your titties wild and free- to see what Kurt’s up to this fine evening. Whoever gets laid first has proven their point.” Jubilee explained. 

Ororo shook her head regretfully. “I don’t think so. For one, he’ll be at church most of the evening…” 

“Church on a Saturday night? Lame.” Jubilee muttered. 

“Secondly, we hung out yesterday evening already, and despite my repeated attempts at flirtation, he seemed completely oblivious.” Ororo went on to explain, in more detail, the events of Friday night: the book, the thing with his tail, touching his hand, culminating in the kiss goodbye. She left out the part about the beer, as she had promised him. 

As Jean nodded thoughtfully over what Ororo had told her, Jubilee piped up. “So basically, you’re saying that you touched his hand a little bit, gave him a downright-grandmotherly kiss on the cheek, and he didn’t _immediately_  take his dick out? You’ve lost your touch, girl.” 

Ororo scoffed and waved Jubilee away. Jubilee giggled at Ororo’s exasperation. Finally, Jean came to a conclusion. “First, I think I’m entitled to say ‘I told ya so,’” Ororo glared at Jean stone-faced. Jean continued. “Also, I think what we have here is a cultural barrier.” 

Jubilee snapped her fingers. “That’s right! I mean, don’t most Europeans kiss each other all the time for no reason? Maybe he just didn’t know you meant business.” 

“That could be part of it, sure.” Jean said. “Although I don’t think Kurt’s one of the ‘kissy ’Europeans. He’s never kissed any of us, or anyone else that I know of, since he got here. But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t assume a kiss from someone else was a generic hello or goodbye.” 

Ororo nodded. “Hmmm… that would make sense…” 

“More importantly, I think your problem might stem from him being German…” Jean started to explain. 

“Ha! People don’t have sex in Germany?” Jubilee interrupted.   

“No! I mean, yes, obviously they do. What I’m saying is that the stereotype of Germans is that they speak plainly, are very straightforward, and don’t read between the lines. ‘Ro, if you want his attention, you’re going to have to be _very_  direct.” 

Ororo paused thoughtfully to consider this information. Jubilee couldn’t help herself. “That’s right! Like, you already get him to help you with your plants, right? Just tell him to come to your room to help water your flowers, and when he shows up, answer the door naked!” she exclaimed, holding her arms up in the air. “Wait, no, not just naked. Wear that silky little robe you own, with nothing under it. That adds class.” she continued with a nod. Ororo shook her head sternly. “What? It’s not even really  a lie. You see, the ‘flower,’ in this case, is just a metaphor for your-" 

“That might be a touch TOO direct…” Jean cut Jubilee off. Jubilee shrugged and started to blow-dry her hair. 

“Thank you.” Ororo said to Jean. “What kind of approach do you think would be sufficiently direct?” 

“Oh, I dunno. You could just tell him with words.” 

“That does not sound romantic at all.” 

“Well, jeez, I dunno, use your imagination. Make it romantic. Get some of that wine you’ve been hoarding away. Invite him up to your room.” Jean attempted to explain. “I mean, he probably already gets some sensual vibes from your room, since most of your flowers look like vaginas anyway…” 

“What?! They do not!” Ororo gasped, scandalized. 

“Really!? They are, like, almost offensively vagina-looking. The pink ones? Come on!” Jean cried. 

“Those are South American orchids, and they are very rare and difficult to grow!” Ororo stated indignantly, crossing her arms. 

“Huh, sure, okay…” Jean rolled her eyes before turning to Jubilee, who was still blow-drying her hair. “Jubes! HEY JUBES! Turn that thing off!” Jubilee flicked the off switch and looked at Jean expectantly. “You know those pink flowers that Ororo keeps in her room?” 

“Oh! You mean the pussy plant?” Jubilee replied without hesitation. 

“THANK YOU!” Jean cried, throwing her hands up in victory. Jean and Jubilee laughed when Ororo raked her hands through her Mohawk with an exasperated groan. They continued getting dressed in relative silence while Jubilee continued to blow-dry her hair. When she finished, she set it down on the counter next to the sink. 

“Hey guys…” she called out, and started running her fingers though her hair and moving it around. “Since you all made fun of my pigtails, do you think a side-pony would be a more mature style?” She pulled her hair to the side of her head and held it there for demonstration. “I’d get a cool scrunchy and probably crimp parts of it to add texture, but you get the idea…” 

“So you’re allowed to use the Crimper?” Jean questioned skeptically. 

“Well, duh. It’s my Crimper, and I look bitchin’ with crimped hair, ask anyone…” 

“I think that would look lovely. And a little more mature than your usual style.” Ororo said with a sweep of her hand. 

“Sweet, thanks!” 

They finished getting dressed and packing up their gym bags. Jubilee ultimately went with the purple bra, a black cropped tank with neon green writing on it, and bright pink bike shorts. Jean wore a white and purple stripped T-shirt and was fortunate that her simple denim skirt was long enough to cover her leg bruise. She motioned towards Ororo’s fitted, ripped jeans. 

“Uh, aren’t you going to be hot in those? It’s really warm out.” 

“Please. I’m African, it’s never warm here. Plus, when you control the weather, you don’t have to dress for the weather.” 

“Suit yourself. Just let me know if you want my help to make those into cutoffs!” Jean laughed. 

Jubilee was about to grab her gym bag and walk out when her head snapped up and she stared intensely at Ororo and Jean. “Guys…wait. I just had a thought…” she said. 

“And did it give you a headache or something?” Jean asked, confused. 

“Yeah, maybe a little. So, like, you know how earlier we were talking about how ‘Ro’s struggling to get laid because Germans don’t know how to have sex, so she’s gonna have to basically get her boobs out in order to get her point across?” 

“Not even close, but continue.” Jean encouraged, while Ororo put her hand on her forehead and sighed in frustration. 

“So here’s what I’m thinking. Like, we all know Kurt’s anatomy isn’t exactly textbook. The hands, the tail, the teeth, it’s all pretty obvious. But what if there was some _not-obvious_ stuff going on? Like _down there?_ ” she explained, hushing towards the end and pointing downwards. “Like, maybe that’s why he’s been so shy. Like, he’s trying to spare ‘Ro from having to experience some kinda weird monster dick.” 

“Jubes, that’s just..!” Jean started annoyed, then reconsidered, “That’s actually a valid point. I didn’t consider that.”   

“I mean, it could be prehensile, like his tail.” Jubilee said. 

“Or bifurcated.” Jean added. 

“What’s that?” Ororo asked. 

“Forked. Like a snake’s tongue.” Jean explained, sticking her tongue out for emphasis. 

“Maybe it has a bunch of spikes or barbs on it.” Jubilee continued. 

“Well, obviously, I draw the line at spikes.” Ororo insisted. 

“I draw the line at _**all of that shit!**_ ” Jubilee said harshly. 

“Well, it is a possibility. We all know he’s a decent guy, he isn’t gonna want to hurt or scare anyone. I guess, ‘Ro, if you keep picking up on him and he keeps not responding, that could be why…” Jean explained gently. 

“So now what? Do I just stay the course, or do I ask him about it directly? I can’t imagine that would be a pleasant conversation.” Ororo asked, looking a bit confused and let down. 

“Hmmm…” Jean thought for a few seconds, and then her face lit up. “You know what? I got it! Leave it with me, I’ll do a little reconnaissance and get back to you shortly.” 

“Are you gonna go spy on the boy’s locker room? Cuz if so, I wanna go too!” Jubilee rubbed her hands together in anticipation. 

“Um, no. I’m just gonna ask Scott about it. And, like, what would you do if you found out the boys were spying on the girl’s locker room?” Jean narrowed her eyes at Jubilee. 

“I’d murder every last one of them.” Jubilee stated with a blank expression.   

“Exactly.” 

“Thank you, Jean. You’re such a good friend.” Ororo gushed. 

“Pfft. It’s like you said. It’s good to live in a society where women look out for each other.” Jean replied with a smile and a nod. 

“On that note, I had a second thought!” Jubilee said excitedly, pointing upwards. 

“Jesus, don’t hurt yourself…” Jean muttered. 

“Oh, you’ll like this. This one’s about you, Jean.” Jubilee started, infectious energy building. “So you know how you were lamenting that your whole lower body is basically trapped in nylon for the evening? Well, what if you took this as an opportunity to…I dunno… try something different? Something that doesn’t require you to free your legs…” Jean raised her eyebrow, confused. 

“Yes! That’s a great idea!” Ororo joined in the excitement. “Seize the moment! Get down on it!” 

“Oh, God. You guys!” Jean cried, just now comprehending what they were talking about. “That’s like…I dunno…a lot to take on in such short notice…” 

“Jean, we’ve all seen Scott in his gym shorts. It can’t be that much to ‘take on’…” Jubilee insisted, which earned her a spiteful glare from Jean. 

“Unless he’s more of a ‘grower’ than a ‘show-er’… I mean, I’ve been surprised before…” Ororo tried to smooth the tension. 

“I don’t know… I wouldn’t even know where to start…” Jean said quietly, looking at her feet. 

“The dick. You start at the dick. C’mon. It’s easy, you probably already know how to do it, you just haven’t put the skills into practice.” Jubilee attempted to reassure her. 

“We could give you some simple advice.” Ororo offered. 

“Hell yes! Thirty-second blow-job seminar! Go!” Jubilee exclaimed, thrusting her fist in the air. 

“Start of slowly, don’t let yourself get overwhelmed.” Ororo said helpfully. 

“Focus on the head, but don’t neglect the shaft…” Jubilee added. 

“Try to keep your teeth out of the equation.” Ororo said again, calm and professional. 

“Unless you’re, like, ‘down there,’ and he keeps trying to push your head down. Then, bite him right on the cock.” Jubilee said, with a serious nod. 

Ororo shrugged and sighed “Or, just tell him what you don’t like with words, like adults.” Jubilee shook her head quietly. 

“Oh! Try to work up, like, A LOT of saliva. Like, a lot.” Jubilee said, back in the game. “And if you can, like, swirl your tongue around, then that’s a good move.” 

“And if you’re doing something and his penis kind of _twitches_  or _flexes_ …keep doing that. You’re on the right track!” Ororo added, finishing on a high note. 

“Oooh, yeah, that’s a good one to remember.” Jubilee said in agreement, before adding, “I think the most important thing for beginners is to decide really early on, preferably before you even start, whether you’re gonna spit or swallow or pull away. And then commit to it. Cuz if you can’t decide and keep changing your mind at the last second, it could be a disaster.” 

Jean looked bewildered by all this information, particularly the last piece of advice. “Well, which should I do? What’s better?” 

“Only you can decide that. Follow your heart.” Ororo said with way too much feeling considering the subject matter. 

“Oh, ‘Ro, you’re the best fairy godmother ever…” Jubilee cooed. 

“Well, that’s a lot to think about. I suppose if I chicken out, then ‘just cuddling’ is always an option…” Jean said quietly, still a little overwhelmed. 

“Of course it is, but where’s the fun in that?” Jubilee replied, throwing her arm around Jean’s shoulder and giving it a little shake. “Everything’s going to be awesome, and we’ll all be VERY busy this evening!” 

Jean’s smile returned. “Ha! Except Ororo. She’ll be in bed by ten-thirty.” 

Ororo shrugged and laughed. “Don’t you worry about me, I have a bottle of wine and a book. I’m fine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is, of course, from Bad Reputation by Joan Jett (1981).  
> Also, don't stick Q-Tips in your ears. Safety first, people.


	6. Workin’ for the Weekend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys hit the showers. Scott tries to make plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is essentially the 'guy' version of the previous chapter. It takes place at the same time.

“Okay, so like, normally getting smacked around by a smokin’ hot naked chick would be the highlight of my week, but I’m pretty sure this thumbnail’s gonna fall off.” Peter lamented, shoving his bruised, already-blackening thumb in Scott and Kurt’s faces. 

“Sick, dude…” Scott pushed Peter’s hand away. 

“Peter, please.” Kurt simply turned and walked towards his gym bag. 

“Dude, I can’t help it if your mom hits like a truck and hates clothes!” Peter called after him. Kurt waved him away, refusing to look up. 

“But what you _can_  help is getting injured. If you’d paid better attention this morning, you wouldn’t have gotten your thumb jammed behind the trigger.” Scott said in his serious ‘I’m the team leader’ voice. 

“Okay, point taken, but, like, _how the fuck_  am I supposed to take a gun from someone without getting shot or injured without using my powers?” Peter demanded, holding his arms out. 

“That was the point of the exercise! We can’t always rely on having our powers! There are inhibition fields and collars and suppressant drugs! Kurt and I didn’t use our powers either, and we both nailed that part of the exercise!” Scott shot back. 

“Great, super, congratulations. But Kurt was totally cheating, what with the tail and bendiness and acrobatics.” Peter said with a huff. 

Kurt spun his head towards Peter and glared at him. “ _Was!?_ ” 

“That’s definitely not cheating, it’s a a combination of learned skill and how he just physically _is_.” Scott replied, motioning his hand towards Kurt in a ‘I got this’ gesture. 

Peter shrugged, undeterred. “If he couldn’t use his tail in a fight, he’d have to learn to make do without one.” 

“If you lost your right hand in a fight, you’d have to learn to jerk off with a hook.” Scott snapped. Behind him, Kurt brought his hand over his mouth. The tension in the room was palpable. 

“Haha! You got me there!” Peter laughed. He grinned and pointed at Scott. “I’m not the only fuck-up, though! Pretty sure your girl got fucking pistol-whipped!” 

“Uh, yeah. I noticed that. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it later tonight.” Scott said with a regretful nod. 

“Oh, and Kurt, I didn’t mean to give you a hard time. I just got worked up cuz my thumb hurts. I thought it was pretty fuckin’ sweet how you can just teleport an assault rifle in half!” Peter said after haphazardly ruffling a towel over his hair in a vague attempt to dry it. 

“Thank you, Peter. It’s no problem. And I think Raven was less impressed, I think she thought she could keep that gun for later…” he said with a slight smirk. He stood up to start the process of threading a plain brown belt through the belt loops of his khaki pants. 

“Nuthin’ a little duct tape won’t fix!” Scott called out from the sink, where he combed his hair in the mirror. 

“So, like, can you do that to people too, or just things?” Peter quizzed. He was standing around in a towel, not making any real effort to get dressed at all. 

“Hmmm….” Kurt paused for a second and look upwards. “I really have no idea. Honestly, I try not to think about it.” 

“Oh. Um…” Peter frowns slightly before nodding. “Okay. Great. Keep doing that.” 

“Guys, I got a new cologne the other day, wanna tell me if I should wear it when Jean and I go out tonight?” Scott asked. He walked over to his gym bag and took out a green glass bottle. 

“ _Ja_ , no problem!” Kurt held his hands out to catch the bottle Scott threw to him. He uncapped it and sniffed the spray nozzle. He immediately scrunched his nose and pulled the bottle away from his face. “Um, It might be a little strong, _nicht wahr?_ ”   

“Well, maybe you should try spraying some on yourself to see what it smells like on? Maybe it’s better that way?” Scott said, waiting expectantly.    

“Oh, um…” Kurt gave the nozzle another small, experimental sniff before immediately placing the bottle back down on the bench he had been sitting on. He shoved it away from himself, and then gently shoved it even further away with his tail, as if it were a jar of high-powered acid or a hand grenade. “ _Nein_ , no, no thank you. I might have to be around other people later.” 

“Jeez. Is it that bad?” Scott seemed truly bewildered. Kurt shrugged and then nodded. 

“Give me that! How bad could it be?” Peter snatched the bottle and sprayed a bunch of it in a cloud around his head. His expression quickly turned to utter dismay as he almost-instantaneously appeared at the opposite end of the locker room.”Whatthefuckisthatshit!” he cried shrilly, waving his arms around his head in an attempt to disperse the cloud. 

Scott tipped his head back in frustration and sighed. “Come on, guys. You’re exaggerating. It smelled fine in the store.” 

“Did you buy it when your allergies were acting up?” Kurt asked helpfully. Scott shrugged and shook his head. “I just don’t think you should wear it on a date. It might make Jean nauseous or give her a headache.” he added. 

“Seriously?” Scott groaned. 

“Dude. Holy fuck. Just fucking smell it right now and tell me it’s not fucking nasty!” Peter zipped back to where he had set the bottle of cologne, grabbed it, zipped closer to Scott, and tossed it at him. Kurt cringed as Scott fumbled the bottle a few times, but eventually maintained a grip on it. Scott sniffed at the bottle while Peter ranted. “Now, if you came across something that smelled like that, would you consider putting it in your mouth? No! Because you would assume it was fucking toxic! This shit smells like a chemical weapons factory exploded next to a barn! I don’t even know where you would find something like this. Did you buy it from a guy in an alley? How would you even get rid of it? You might have to bury it. If you threw it in the regular trash, it might stink up the whole garbage dump…” 

Scott finally capped the bottle and put it back in his gym bag. “Okay, okay, fine, I won’t wear it, God…” 

Kurt smiled reassuringly at Scott. “Don’t worry! You could always just give the whole bottle to Jean. She can keep it in her purse to use as self-defence.” 

“Ha.” Scott replied without even a hint of humor. 

Once Peter and Kurt were comfortable that Scott was going to go with ‘Old Spice’ rather than ‘toxic waste,’ Kurt walked to the mirror to comb his hair. He’d changed his hairstyle almost a year ago to something less flashy and more professional, and the blue streaks had almost completely faded or grown out. He’d explained to his friends that it was necessary now that he wasn’t in the circus anymore and had a normal job, but failed to explain why he thought being an X-Man was a normal job.   

“Hey whyya doin’ your hair all fancy? Got a date?” Peter wandered inquisitively into Kurt’s mirror-space. 

“Peter, only you think a comb is fancy.” Kurt sighed. “But if you must know, I’m going to church later.” 

“Ah. Date with Jesus. Gotcha.” 

“Or you could just call it church. But that does remind me…” Kurt finished fixing his hair and turned to Scott. “Scott, where do we keep the replacement light bulbs?” 

Scott opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Peter before a sound could come out. “Dude, holdup, why are you asking him? You don’t think I know things too?” Peter scowled and crossed his arms. He might have looked more intimidating if he weren’t still wearing a towel. 

Kurt sighed and set down his comb. He turned to face Peter and looked him straight in the eye, expressionless. “Peter, where are the light bulbs?” 

“Fuck if I know.” 

Kurt threw his hands up in frustration and teleported away from from Peter, back to his gym bag. Scott waited a few seconds for the dust to settle, so to speak, before clearing his throat. “The light bulbs are in the broom closet next to the kitchen. Top shelf, towards the back.” 

“ _Danke_. The one in my room died over a month ago, and I figure I should replace it soon.” 

Peter laughed and leaned against the counter next to the sink. “Ha! I feel like there’s a ‘how many Germans does it take to change a light bulb’ joke in there somewhere.” 

Kurt shrugged slightly while digging through his gym bag. “Oh, probably just one. As a culture we value efficiency, and since I can see in the dark, up until now it was actually more efficient to just leave the dead bulb in.” Behind him, Peter looked at Scott and quickly moved his hand over his head while making a quiet ‘whoosh.’ Scott just shook his head. Oblivious, Kurt continued. “The only reason to change it now is that Ororo will be over later with my new plant, and she’s mentioned she doesn’t like small dark spaces. So it’s only polite to replace the bulb.” 

“You guys spend a lot of time together.” Scott mentioned inanely while pulling his socks on. 

Kurt paused for a second to think. “ _Ja_ , I suppose we do. I enjoy the time we spend working on her garden. It’s very different to be in one place long enough to watch things grow. Of course, I know nothing about plants so I just do what she tells me to!” he said with a laugh towards the end. Then he paused and his expression shifted to confusion. “Although, she has been behaving strangely towards me recently…” 

“What do you mean by strange?” Scott asked. He finished pulling his blue t-shirt on and waited expectantly. 

“I don’t know. More familiar, I guess? I helped her with her homework last night and she kept getting very close. She actually kissed me when I left. Do you think that might just be part of her culture?” Kurt replied, head tilted quizzically.    

“Man, if her culture makes her kiss random dudes, then where’s mine? I’d wait in line for that shit, she’s hot as fuck.” Peter interjected. He punctuated his statement by tossing his towel to the side, and started rummaging through his gym bag for his pants. He had developed a reputation for standing around naked, in no rush to get dressed. 

Scott shook his head, and even with his glasses it was obvious he was trying to avoid looking in Peter’s direction. Finally, he resolved to look directly at Kurt while trying to ignore Peter in the background. “Maybe she’s just from one of those wacky foreign countries where people kiss people who are nice to them, because they like them.” Kurt still appeared confused. “I’m saying that she probably just likes you. Ask her out.” he suggested with a casual shrug. 

Kurt’s eyes widened and he quickly looked down, making a sharp sound that would have been a laugh if it hadn’t been completely devoid of humor. “Sure, I’ll get right to that.” he said flatly as he pulled a plain white undershirt out of his gym bag. 

“Well, why not? You don’t think she’s pretty?” Scott asked, seemingly bewildered by Kurt’s reaction. 

“Are you joking? She’s probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever actually seen.” Kurt hurriedly pulled the undershirt on, quickly followed by a dull red long-sleeved t-shirt. One would almost think he was preparing to escape the conversation. 

“Then what’s the problem? You guys could even come on a double-date with me and Jean, so there’s less pressure. It’d be perfect! I’m always bugging Jean to go to the Drive-In, but she always shoots it down cuz she thinks the night would be ruined if it started to rain, cuz then we’d have to keep the wipers on. But if we bring _Storm_  with us, obviously it’s not gonna rain! And then you could come too. Double-date.” Scott paused and smiled, clearly pleased with his superior planning skills. He looked at Kurt, awaiting his reply, when Peter laughed in the background. 

“Haha! Nothing says ‘no-pressure first date’ like trying to watch a shitty movie over the sound of two other people dry-humping in the back seat!” 

“Dude! We wouldn’t… I mean… well, for one, the assumption is that we’d go in separate vehicles.” Scott looked annoyed at having to even dignify Peter with a response. “And put on your damn pants!” Peter laughed but made no move to get dressed. Scott looked back at Kurt. “You can drive a car, right?” 

“I can drive a car, but I don’t have a license. I think I might be an illegal immigrant.” 

“Oh. Shit. Well, no biggie. ‘Ro and Jean can go together, and you and me can go in a different car, and we’ll all just swap when we get there.” Scott explained. 

“ _Nein_ , I don’t think so.” Kurt replied quietly, without even having to think about it. 

“Dude! Think about it. This is actually a really sweet deal.” Peter piped in. He finally managed to step into a pair of silvery-gray pants, sans underwear, and bounced obnoxiously when pulling them up. “I mean, it doesn’t have to be all romantic, you can just let the whole thing go naturally and see what happens.” 

Scott nodded. “That’s actually a good point.” 

“Of course it is. I’ve been around the block a few more times than you two.” Peter replied. “I mean, it’s like, worst-case scenario is platonic popcorn.” Scott nodded in agreement, and Kurt appeared to relax slightly. Peter continued. “Of course, best-case scenario is possible handjob!” he exclaimed, while also making a ‘jerk-off’ motion with his hand. 

“PETER!” Kurt gasped, scandalized. 

“Oh, goddammit.” Scott groaned and put his face in his hands. “Don’t listen to him, he’s an idiot. But seriously, what’s the hangup?” 

Kurt looked down and busied himself with packing up his gym bag. “It’s just not how this works.” 

Scott scoffed. “Of course it is. This is how dating in America works. Haven’t you been paying attention to those shitty romance movies the girls pick out for us to watch?” 

“Oh, whatever, dude, you love those movies!” Peter called out. Scott waved him away. 

“Not for me, it isn’t.” Kurt muttered quietly. 

“Well, why the hell not? Is this, like, a religious thing, or is it, like, a…” Scott motioned his hand in a vague pattern indicating Kurt’s whole body, “mutant thing?” 

Kurt stood with his gym bag strap over his shoulder and stared at Scott for several seconds. “Scott, you are a very good friend.” he finally said, in an uncharacteristically serious tone. 

“Thank you.” 

“...But you don’t understand what you’re talking about, and I’d appreciate if you just left me alone on this.”

Scott recoiled slightly, shocked. “Dude! I’m trying to help you!” 

“I know, and I like that about you. But I’m not going to make a fool out of myself, or compromise my friendship with Ororo, just because you’d like to go to the Drive-In. I can accept that perhaps she is lonely, and that might be influencing her behavior towards me, but real life doesn’t work like the plot of a romantic comedy.” Kurt replied, calmly but in the same serious tone. 

“Well, shit, Kurt, I’m sorry.” 

Kurt shrugged and smiled slightly. “Nothing to be sorry for.” 

“Alright, my dudes, great we got that settled, but we have another conundrum…” Peter called out. He had managed to throw on a Pink Floyd t-shirt and step into some sandals while the other two were talking. He almost-instantly appeared in the space between where Scott and Kurt were, and held out his injured thumb for them both to see. “So should I let this nail fall off on it’s own, or should I just rip it off now?” 

“If you rip it off, it will be very painful and bleed a lot.” Kurt explained. 

“Plus, you and Jubes are on dish duty tonight, and I won’t want you tracking blood all over the clean dishes…” Scott added. 

“But, I mean, it’s really painful now. I feel like if I rip it off, it’ll hurt less in the long run? Like popping a pimple?” Peter poked it gingerly while furrowing his brow. 

“Sick, dude, don’t poke it. It’ll make it worse. See Hank if you’re that worried about it.” Scott pleaded. 

“Do you think you could, like, teleport it off for me?” Peter asked Kurt, shoving the thumb in his face. 

“ _Nein_ , Peter. There’s no guarantee I wouldn’t take the whole finger or hand.” Kurt tried to explain while also gently shoving Peter’s hand away from him. “I also don’t want to touch it.” 

“You guys are lame. Jubes is cool, I bet I can get her to, like, blast it off with her powers or something.” Peter finally lowered his hand, dejected. 

“Sure. Get Jubilee to blast parts off your hand. See how well that goes.” Scott stated expressionlessly. 

“Probably still have more fun then I’d have hanging out with you two dweebs.” Peter replied before sticking out his tongue. 

“Okay. That was never an option, because we all have plans this evening. But I really don’t care what kind of stupid shit you and Jubes get up to, as long as you get the dishes done first.” Scott said with his arms crossed. 

“Okay, Dad. Yeesh.” 

“That reminds me. Kurt, can you swing by my room before you go to church to help me pick out a shirt?” Scott asked, softening his stance. 

“Dude, why do you need our bro from the old country to help you pick out clothes?” Peter said with a laugh. 

“Uh, he has color vision and I don’t? Everything I see is pink. I just don’t wanna clash.” Scott explained. 

“I have color vision. I could help you.” Peter offered. 

Scott laughed. “Ha! No thanks. From what I hear, you only ever wear one shitty color that isn’t even in the rainbow.” Peter scoffed, clearly insulted. 

“Of course I can help you, _Freund_. What color pants are you wearing with it?” Kurt asked. 

“Uuuummm…. tan? Or gray? Maybe light blue? Honestly, I’m not sure.” Scott scratched his head in confusion. 

“I can help you with that, too.” Kurt assured. 

“I bet Jubes would love an opportunity to help you get dressed for a date. She’s all into fashion and stuff.” Peter offered, still kind of insulted from before. 

“Yeah, maybe if I wanted to look like Rainbow fucking Brite! Though she might be able to help _you_  out.” Scott pointed out. Peter stuck his tongue out again. 

“Well, I still need to fix a light bulb. I should go.” Kurt said, turning towards the door. 

“Holdup, dude. I’ll come too. And about Ororo, you can forget everything I said if you want, but remember this…” Scott moved in front of Kurt to face him, and set his gym bag down so he could grab Kurt by the shoulders. “If you let that stupid spider plant die, she will actually slaughter you.” 

Kurt laughed and grinned, patting Scott on the shoulder. “Thank you. I know.” 

The three of them walked out of the locker room together, and made it about twenty feet up the hall before running into Jean and Jubilee. 

“Hey ladies!” Peter said, louder than necessary. 

“Hey guys!” Jubilee returned with an enthusiastic wave. 

“We still on for tonight?” Scott asked Jean, before leaning in for a quick kiss. 

“You know it! But I was wondering if we could chat in private before we go? Maybe swing by my room in an hour or so?” Jean said while tossing her hair behind her shoulder. 

“Uh, sure. Yeah. No problem.” Scott stammered. 

“Great. Catch you guys later!” she replied, and her and Jubilee continued up the hall. Kurt turned and waved goodbye silently. 

“Dude! What the fuck did you do?” Peter whispered harshly as soon as the girls were out of earshot. 

“I don’t know! Do you think it’s bad?” Scott whispered back, with an agonized expression on his face. 

“Well it can’t be good! Girls never wanna talk in private about stuff that’s good!” Peter replied, no longer whispering. “You, my man, are in _so much trouble._ ” 

Scott turned to Kurt desperately. “What do you think?” 

Kurt frowned, and then snapped his fingers. “Light bulbs!” was all he said before he disappeared in a cloud of blue-black smoke. Scott groaned loudly while running both hands through his hair, and Peter laughed so hard he had to sit down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song "Working for the Weekend" by Loverboy, released in 1981. It's a jam.  
> Also, Peter just strikes me as one of those obnoxiously naked locker room people. As far as I know, neither the films nor the comics have addressed this...


	7. S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt helps Scott. Scott helps Jean. Jean helps Ororo. Ororo helps Kurt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone gets ready for their Saturday night activities. Nothing too outrageous.

“You were right. The pants are actually tan.” 

“Okay, great. So I just need a shirt in a color that goes with tan.” 

“Almost every color goes with tan.” 

Kurt and Scott dug through the various drawers in Scott’s bureau, searching for the perfect shirt to wear on his date. 

“So this restaurant you’re taking Jean to, how fancy is it?” Kurt asked while comparing a polo shirt to a button-down shirt. “That could help us narrow things down.” 

“Well, it’s fancy enough that you have to wait to be seated, and there are candles on the tables, but not so fancy that they don’t have ‘all-you-can-eat lasagna’ on Wednesdays.” Scott explained. 

Kurt set down the button-down shirt and held the polo shirt up for inspection. It was burgundy and a good quality cotton. “Maybe you should be taking Jean there on a Wednesday, and not a Saturday, _nicht wahr_?” 

“Ha! I don’t think we’re in a place in our relationship yet where I’m comfortable with Jean knowing exactly how much lasagna I can eat.” 

Kurt laughed as he held the polo shirt up to Scott’s shoulders. “Hmm… this one looks good, I think.” 

“Cool. Thanks, man.” 

“Anytime.” 

“Now you better scram before I have to go see Jean about whatever it is she has to talk to me about…” Scott trailed off, his face becoming concerned. “If no one sees me in, like, twelve hours, don’t bother sending a search party. I’m already dead.” 

“It can’t be that bad! Like you said, you haven’t done anything out of the ordinary.” Kurt tried to reassure him, giving his shoulder a friendly pat. 

“That’s the thing- she’s a mind reader. I don’t have to actually _do_  anything, I just have to _think_  it…” Scott’s expression became more intense the longer he spoke. 

Kurt slung his arm around Scott’s shoulders and gave him a slight shake. “Well, if you need to curl into a ball and cry on my floor, you know where to find me.” he said, before turning and walking towards Scott’s door. “I’ll say a prayer for you at church. _Gute Nacht_  and good luck.” he added, and then disappeared. 

******

 Scott walked slowly up the hall, intentionally trying to delay his chat with Jean as long as possible. When he found himself outside her door, he considered just standing there indefinitely, until he realized that she could probably sense that he was there, and was currently thinking he was even more of an idiot. He finally brought himself to knock on the door. 

“Come in!” she called cheerfully from the other side of the door. 

He opened the door the minimal amount required for him to actually enter the room and then quickly turned to close it behind him. Jean was sitting on her bed cross-legged, playing with her long red hair. She smiled at him, and patted a spot on the bed next to her. He walked towards her, but stopped in his tracks when he reached the foot of her bed. 

She peered at him quizzically. “Sooooo…. what’s up?” 

“I dunno.” was all he could manage. 

“You seem kind of nervous. Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him, her hands now folded idly in her lap. 

“I don’t know! Why don’t you tell me!?” he sounded slightly more hysterical than he’d like. 

“What are you on about?” 

“I don’t know! Everything was fine, and then you’re all like ‘We need to talk!’ so obviously I fucked up at some point!” he rambled, waving his hands around as he did so. 

“What!? Okay, first of all, I didn’t even say ‘We need to talk,’ I said ‘Can we chat?,’ that’s way different. Second of all, as far as I know, you haven’t done anything to piss me off…” she counted off on her fingers. 

“So you’re not breaking up with me?” he asked quietly, leaning forward. 

“No! Why, did you do something that you think I would have wanted to break up with you over?” she asked with her head tilting slightly, trying to sound innocent. Normally she wouldn’t torture him, but he made it too easy sometimes. 

“No! I mean, I don’t think so! I didn’t _do_  anything, but I can’t control my thoughts twenty-four-seven!” Scott pleaded. 

Jean gave up. She rolled her eyes so hard her entire head tipped back. “Oooohmygod…Okay, so, contrary to popular belief, telepaths don’t spend all day wracking other people’s brains for excuses to be mad at them. Nobody has time for that shit, nothing would ever get done. So, like, you’re not going to get in trouble with me because you glanced down another girl’s shirt, or think my butt looks big in my new shorts, or something equally stupid.” 

Scott took a deep breath and almost instantly relaxed. “Oh, thank God. The guys really had me worked up.” He walked the last couple feet and took a seat next to Jean where she had originally indicated. 

She raised and eyebrow and gave him a pointed look. “The guys? Both of them? Really?” 

Scott shrugged. “Well, mainly Peter. Kurt offered to pray for me.” 

“Ha! See? You had nothing to worry about, you even had the Lord on your side.” Jean smiled, and poked his ribs. “Besides, you’re actually, like, _the opposite_  of ‘in trouble,’ I actually wanted to talk to you because I need your help with something.” 

Hearing this, Scott perked up. He straightened his posture and squared his shoulders. “Oh, sure thing!” he said, a little too eager. 

“Okay, so it sounds a little weird, but just hear me out before you say anything.” She held her hands out, and leaned closer to him. “So basically, a girl I know, who shall remain anonymous, has developed a bit of an interest in Kurt. But, she has some apprehensions. Mainly regarding the…uh…physicality of his mutation. So she asked me to see if you could shed some light on that topic - given that you guys have such a close working relationship- so she isn’t in for any weird surprises.” Jean explained, as delicately as possible. 

Scott sat silently for a moment and furrowed his brow. “Hmm…I don’t follow.” 

“Really?” 

Scott shrugged and shook his head. Jean sighed and reached out to Scott’s shoulders to turn him towards her, so they were face to face, her sitting cross-legged while he had one bent leg on the bed while the other dangled off the side. “Okay, let’s try this again.” Jean sat up straighter and continued. “Alright. So, a girl I know kinda wants to bang Kurt. But she’s worried that cuz, like, some parts of him are weird, that could mean that _other parts_ of him are just as weird. She’ll tolerate some weirdness, but not, like, spikes or barbs or anything like that. So I said ‘Why don’t I just ask Scott, they see each other naked in the locker room on an almost-daily basis!’ So here we are.” 

“Oh, come on! Really?” Scott exclaimed. 

“What? It’s a simple question! I’m just trying to help a friend out, possibly two friends when you consider that Kurt might get laid out of this.” 

“Just because we are in the locker room together doesn’t mean that we look at each other’s junk all the time!” Scott threw his hands up in exasperation. 

“I don’t need you to draw an artist’s impression! I just need a simple ‘Yeah, it’s a normal-looking dick’ or ‘No, it’s, like, a horror-movie dick, run away.’” 

Scott shook his head. “I don’t see why you need me for this. Why not just read his mind and see for yourself?” 

Jean sighed in frustration. “You think that would be so much easier? Easier than you just telling me?” 

“Yeah.” Scott shrugged and nodded. “I mean, while you’re in there, can you get his recipe for caramel corn?” 

“That’s just popcorn with caramel on it, it hardly counts as a recipe.” Jean leaned her head down and pinched the bridge of her nose. “And reading minds isn’t like going to a supermarket filled with people’s memories. There isn’t, like, a ‘body parts’ aisle and a ‘food I can cook’ aisle.” 

“But it is something you could do, right?” Scott pressed. 

“Well, technically, sure. But he’d be aware I was doing it, and people generally don’t like it. Also, is this a can of worms you’d like to open? Me just reading guy’s minds to get a mental image of their package? I mean, I might as well just run a scan on every guy in the school, rate them on a number of key parameters, and maybe compile that data into a spreadsheet or something that I could hand out to the entire female student body, so they can all make informed decisions…” Jean rambled as she picked at her clear nail polish. 

“Okay, okay, I get it, God…” 

“What’s the problem? I’m sure you’d be ranked favorably.” Jean mock-assured him. 

Scott covered his face with his hands and groaned, falling back onto the bed. Jean followed suit, laughing and rolling onto her stomach, kicking her feet up. She poked him in the ribs some more. 

“Ooof.” He uncovered his face and twisted slightly to defend himself. He looked over at her and sighed, defeated. “Fine. You win.” 

“Yay! You can consider it your good deed of the day.” 

“Great. Now, keep in mind this is, like, what I’ve noted from, like, a passing glance, at the most…” 

Jean rolled her eyes. “Of course. Sure.” 

“Like, really, I’m not even sure how helpful I’ll be, cuz, like, I try not to make a habit of staring at other guy’s dicks. Plus I shower with my eyes closed anyways…” 

“Ohmygod, Scott, your sexuality is not under question here.” 

“I know. Just sayin’. Anyway, to answer your question…” Scott trailed off and laced his hands behind his head. 

“Spit it out!” 

“So basically, from what I’ve noticed, everything’s more-or-less what you’d expect. No spikes, no hooks, nothing scary or dangerous. But what’s actually kinda strange is that, for a guy who normally acts pretty shy, he’s really not shy in the locker room at all. Kinda threw me for a loop when he first started here.” 

“Good. Thanks for the help, I’m sure my friend will be _very_  appreciative.” Jean said with a warm smile, and reached out to fiddle with the sleeve of his t-shirt. “And the other part makes sense, too. Europeans, in general, have much more progressive attitudes towards nudity.” 

“Well, maybe I should give him a heads-up about how things are in America.” Scott replied with a determined nod, mostly to himself. 

“In Europe, all beaches are topless beaches.” 

“You know, I’ve always said we can learn so much from other cultures…” Scott said with a smirk and raised eyebrow. Jean laughed and gave his stomach a slight slap out of mock-indignation. “What?! You’d love it! No tan lines!”    

“Oh, I’m sure.” She laughed and rolled onto her back, scooting over until she could rest against him, her head on his arm. 

“Hmmm… Having said that, though, I can get that Kurt’s from a different culture, but what’s Peter’s excuse? He’s, like, a hundred times worse! No shame at all! Just always letting it all hang…” Scott shook his head as he rambled. 

“Haha, really?! That’s hilarious!” Jean giggled. 

“It’s hilarious to you, because you don’t have to look at it every day!” Scott quickly insisted. “It’s like, I wanna throw a towel over it or something, but that might just encourage him…” 

“So what about it, then? Is there something going on he _should_  be shamed of, or… is all this excessive confidence warranted…” 

“Oh, God. Don’t tell me you’re trying to hook Peter up with someone too!” Scott asked in disbelief. 

Jean shrugged slightly. “There have been _inquiries_ …from certain interested parties…” 

“Is this what you do now? You match people up? You’re a matchmaker?” 

“You have to admit, it would be nice to know at least one other couple, for like double-dates and stuff.” Jean tried to explain. “Plus, being a matchmaker would be a nice side-job if being an X-Man or a doctor doesn’t work out…” 

“Oh sure. Easy for you, when I’d have to spot-check every dick in the roster…” Scott grumbled. 

“People pay extra for premium service.” Jean pointed out. Scott groaned. 

“Sooo….” Scott started when he was done acting scandalized. “Who’s this mystery woman that’s into Kurt?” 

“I can’t say. I was sworn to secrecy. Girl Code.” Jean placed her hand over her chest for emphasis. 

Scott seemed to weigh her reply for second and nodded. “Hmm. Okay. I get it. So was it ‘Ro or Jubes?” 

“What makes you think it’s either of them? I have _lots_  of girl friends you don’t know.” Jean insisted, probably a little too strongly. 

“No you don’t! We both have extremely small social circles! We all basically hang out with the same four or five people all day, every day.” 

“Regardless, I still can’t tell you.” Jean held firm. 

“Alright. So, like, it’s almost definitely ‘Ro, right? I mean, Kurt was telling us today that’s she’s basically been hitting on him, although he doesn’t know to call it that.” Scott continued to press. 

“I can neither confirm nor deny.” Jean persisted, but continued, “Now, out of curiosity, what did you tell him?” 

“Oh, you know, just the obvious stuff. I said I thought she was picking up on him, and he should ask her out. I even floated the idea of a double-date, in case he was uncomfortable going it alone.” Scott frowned at the memory of his previous conversation. “He shut me down completely. He actually kinda got mad? I don’t think he’s comfortable with the idea of dating, like, _at all_.” 

“Oh. That’s kind of disappointing.” Jean replied. Scott shrugged. “Do you think it’s, like, a religious thing? Cuz Catholics date people. I know they do.” 

“I dunno, maybe partially? I remember once Peter was teasing him and asked if being religious meant he had to practice celibacy, and he said he didn’t need to practice because he was naturally very good at it, on account of being really ugly.” 

“Aw! And what did you say?” 

“I dunno. I think I just laughed. I wasn’t sure if he was joking and I didn’t want to be a dick.” 

“Oh my God! Guys are such shitty friends!” Jean exclaimed, swatting Scott on the abdomen again. She rolled over onto her stomach to face him, if only to scold him. “If one of the girls said something like that about herself, the rest of us would take turns telling her how beautiful she was.” 

“Well, shit, guys don’t talk about things like that. It’d be weird.” Scott held his hands up, as if to defend his entire gender. 

“Yeah, guys just stand around and insult each other and practice professional wrestling moves on each other. That’s why men die sooner. Lack of emotional connection and social support.” Jean ranted. 

“Pro wrestling moves!? We’re not twelve!” Scott cried, insulted. 

“Sometimes I wonder.” Jean said pointedly, with a raised eyebrow. She rolled back to her place in the crook of his arm. “Aren’t you going to try and get me to tell you who’s into Peter?” 

“Pfft! If some chick wants to bang Peter, more power to her.” 

Jean burst into laughter. “Ha! Wow. Does that mean you don’t wanna double-date with him?” 

Scott glared at Jean, unsure if she was serious. “Fuck no!” 

Jean laughed even harder. “You know, if Peter starts dating one of my friends, we’ll pretty much have too. It’s the law.” Scott groaned loudly and raked his free hand through his hair, causing Jean to start laughing again. 

“So…” Scott rolled onto his side to face Jean, and so that he could run his free hand up her leg and under the hem of her skirt. “How’s the leg?” He continued moving his hand higher, until he moved over the location of her bruise. When Jean closed her eyes and hissed sharply, he quickly pulled away. “Shit! Sorry!” 

“Well, why don’t you tell me?” she said with a raised eyebrow, hiking the hem of her skirt up to display the large, purple, bullseye-shaped bruise on her outer thigh. 

“Jesus! I mean, I knew you said it hurt, but this is nuts…” He gingerly patted the center of the bruise. “It feels like there’s, like, a baseball under your skin or something. Are you sure you’re still alright with going out tonight? We could do a rain-check for next week.” 

“I’m fine! It’s just a bruise, it won’t keep me from seeing a movie! It’s not like we’re going mountain climbing. Besides, it only hurts when someone’s poking it…” she finished with a pointed look. 

“...Sorry.” he muttered when he pulled his hand away. Jean pulled her skirt back down and smoothed it out. “So what movie do you wanna go see? There’s the new _Rambo_ , new _Police Academy_ , a Rom-Com about a baseball player and a singer, and some kinda Horror about a monster on a space ship…” 

“Hmmm…” Jean hummed in consideration, looking upwards. “How about the Horror flick? I feel like watching other people be scared.” 

“Jean, you don’t even need to leave the house for that…” Scott muttered with a smirk. She laughed and threaded her hands through the hair on the back of his head, pulling him into a kiss that was intended to be quick, but quickly melted into something deeper. She hummed in approval when she felt the weight of him press her back into the mattress, and felt his knee move in between hers. It would be so easy, she thought, to just stay here all night, like this. So much easier, and so clearly what they both wanted. But, she thought begrudgingly, the evening was young and there was still work to do. 

She smirked at him when the kiss finally broke. “Maybe I just need to rent ‘We Need to Talk: The Movie’” 

He laughed at his own expense. “Well yeah, obviously…” 

She gave him another kiss, a quick peck this time, and hopped up off the bed. “Now, as much as I’d like to hang out here indefinitely, I have to have a talk with a mystery woman, and also get ready for this evening.” 

Scott stood up and straightened out his shirt. “Sounds good! Around seven at the front door still work for you?” 

“I’ll be there!” 

Jean opened her bedroom door and walked into the hallway. Scott, sensing an opportunity, quickly jogged to catch up with her. He walked just slightly behind her, noting that they were headed in the direction of one of the mansion’s common rooms. 

“Sooo…” he said with a cocky smile, “If I was to keep walking with you, I wouldn’t totally just run into Kurt’s secret admirer, would I? Because that would be too easy, wouldn’t it?” 

“Well, yes, it would be.” she replied, equally cocky. “I don’t actually have to have a face-to-face chat with this person, I can communicate with them telepathically.” 

“Hmm. Fair enough.” he said, but kept on her heel. They entered the common room, which was bustling with activity. Scott scanned the area, noting the assortment of younger students playing board games, reading, and watching TV. There were several small groups of young mutants who collected on one of several couches or in circles on the floor, chatting or studying. He made note of Peter taking on not less than five students at a Foosball game and apparently still winning. In the far corner, he sees Ororo laying crossways on a beat-up old armchair, with an open book and a scribbler in her lap, chewing on a pencil. Next to her, Jubilee is sitting on the floor next to the chair, leaning against it and flipping through a fashion magazine. She occasionally points things out to Ororo, moving her hands around as she describes whatever is interesting her.   

Jean moves both hands to her temples and closes her eyes for a few seconds. Scott watches her with fascination, until the sound of a loud ‘smack’ grabs his attention. He looks over to the corner of the common room where Ororo and Jubilee were sitting, noting that they had apparently just high-fived. Ororo hurriedly collected her study materials and hopped up off the chair, smiling broadly and quickly walking out another exit on the far side of the room. Jubilee, grinning and laughing to herself, sat in the chair Ororo had been in, and continued to flip through her magazine while shaking her head. 

“Wow.” Scott said to Jean sarcastically. “You are so sneaky. You should be a spy.” 

Jean glanced at Scott and quickly looked away. “Shut up.” was all she could manage before she spun on her heel and retreated to her room.

 *******

 Ororo gave herself a quick spot-check in her mirror before making the trek to Kurt’s room. Hair- mostly upwards, makeup- minimal but sufficient, boobs- completely unrestrained. She gathered the small, pale-green leafy plant in the Styrofoam cup she had planted it in, and walked to the boy’s dorm.  She made it to Kurt’s door and knocked twice, and was amused by the sudden loud thud she heard behind the door. She heard the knob turn and the door swung wide open. 

“Hallo!” Kurt said with an enthusiastic smile. He stepped back from the door, giving her a view of his room. “You don’t need to come in if you don’t want to, but I’d like you to see that I cleared a space on my desk.” He explained, motioning his arm towards an empty space on his desk, adjacent to the window, and currently illuminated by a sunbeam. 

“Can I come in, though? I brought a friend!” she asked with a smile, holding up the small plant in a cup. Kurt nodded and stepped further away from the door, and she walked to about the midway point of his room and looked around. It was certainly a small room, but with the light on and the window-blind up, it didn’t seem like the coffin-sized deathtrap she remembered. In the back of the room was a desk and a rolling chair, and closer to the door was a small bookshelf with a plain wooden crucifix hung at eye level above it. On the other side of the room, leaving only barely enough space to walk through, was a bureau. Above it, a little more than a meter and a half in the air, a hammock with a single blanket and pillow was fastened to the rafters. 

Kurt reached out and took the plant from her hands. He walked to his desk and set it in the spot he previously indicated. “Is this okay?” 

“Yes! Looks like it will get plenty of sun.” 

“ _Gut_!” 

Ororo looked around the compact space, finally pointing at the hammock. “So, how do you even get in there?” 

Kurt smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “Well, you know…” before hopping and managing to fling his body into a horizontal spin, twisting his legs so he landed sitting upright and cross-legged in the hammock. Ororo’s mouth dropped open. It had happened so fast, she wasn’t sure exactly how he had done it. He grinned down at her gaping expression. “Or if I’m feeling lazy, I just teleport.” 

“Huh, well…” She said, crossing her arms on the surface of his bureau and looking up at him through thick lashes. “That’s an impressive feat. But what would you do if you had a girl over?” 

He shrugged. “You’re a girl, and you’re ‘over’” 

“Yes, but how many people can fit in a hammock?” She used one hand to prop her head up, elbow still on the bureau. 

The flirtatious implication flew right over his head, and he seriously contemplated an answer. “The most people I’ve ever had in a hammock was three. As children, when our mother had guests, my brother and sister and I would have to share. It’s not very comfortable…too many limbs to account for.” he explained. 

“I can imagine.” 

“Although as an adult, two is probably a more reasonable number. I remember, once, another member of our troupe fell asleep in my hammock because he was lazy, and refused to move. So I basically slept on top of him, out of spite.” he added with a quick nod. He almost looked proud. Ororo found the mental image of Kurt angrily sleeping on top of another angry man to be hilarious, and she burst into laughter. He quickly joined her. “Ha, I guess it does sound silly when I say it like that…” 

She stepped back from the bureau and crossed her arms. “So, would I be able to get into the hammock with you?” she asked, with a raised eyebrow and a half-smile. 

Again, he seriously considered the question. “Probably? When I bought this hammock, the packaging said it was safe up to four hundred and fifty pounds. I don’t know what that is in kilograms, but I don’t feel like we’re that big?” He looked down at her, slightly confused. 

Ah, math. “Kurt, that’s over two hundred kilograms.” 

“Oh! Then it’s safe, sure!” he nodded happily. 

“Yes, but how would I get up there?” 

“Oh! That part’s easy!” he said with a grin, and quickly wrapped his tail around the rope that connected the hammock to the ceiling. “Uncross your arms, turn away from me, and back up a little…” he instructed. She did as asked, and soon felt his inhuman hands grasp both sides of her chest, just slightly under each breast. “Hy..uup!” was the sound he made as he deftly and in one motion lifted her up off the floor and set her next to him in the hammock. Oh. Circus acrobat. Right. 

She took a moment to stabilize herself, but soon decided to stretch out in the hammock as best as she could, to try it out for herself. “You’re right, this is pretty comfortable.” The bedding smells like him, a mix of generic masculine soap, lit matches, and a sweet subtle musk. He turned to face her, and her legs ran parallel to his thigh. She crossed her arms behind her head, knowing it made her shirt ride up her midriff. 

He smirked at her. “Heh, well, you look comfortable.” She notices his eyes trail down her body briefly, but then he looks away before glancing back at her face. “Have you started the book yet?” 

“Oh yes! Thank you again, it seems very interesting so far!” she said, and he smiles. “I mean, when the book starts out with the main character in the Arctic, you know the story of how much they had to mess up in order to get there just has to be good!” 

Kurt nodded. “That’s one of the things I really like about the book. Victor Frankenstein is basically a walking example of what _not_ to do!” 

“It’s certainly starting to look that way!” Ororo agreed. Her brow furrowed as she remembered another plot detail. “For example… is Victor really going to marry his sister?” 

“Ha! Well, they aren’t really related. She’s adopted, remember?” 

“But still!” 

He shrugged and smiled. “You’ll just have to keep reading.” She kicked his leg a little and he laughed. She watched him glance at his watch and sigh. “Well, I have to get ready for church.” 

“How long does church take? I’m very comfortable. Maybe I’ll still be here when you get back.” She ran her foot along the middle part of his tail lightly, and wondered if he would notice. 

He scoffed quietly and glanced away with a smile. “Ororo, don’t make me think things I’m just going to have to confess later…” She smiled victoriously, noting that the tips of his ears have darkened. He glances back towards her, his expression somewhat apologetic, “Besides, I still need to get changed. Just my shirt, but still…” 

“In that case, I should stay laying down. I’ve never seen a shirtless man before. I might faint.” Her eyes sparkled wickedly as she poked his side with her foot. 

He smiled playfully and gave her foot a light tap with the spade of his tail. She wasn’t entirely sure if he was even aware he had done it. “That wouldn’t even be the most dramatic reaction I’ve caused.” He effortlessly hopped from where he was sitting to the floor, hardly causing the hammock to sway. “Besides, I know that’s not true. We both know Peter takes his shirt off in the gym as soon as he starts to get sweaty.”       

She waved him off. “Pfft. Peter doesn’t count!” 

“I’m telling him you said that.” 

“You wouldn’t dare!” 

He leaned back against his still-open door and crossed his arms, gazing at her. His smile is a warm mix of exasperated and apologetic. “ _Gute Nacht_ , Ororo.” 

She sighed dramatically. “Okay, fine. I’ll go.” She sat up and swung her legs around the side of the hammock, but is suddenly struck by how unstable it is now that she’s the only one in it. “Now, how do I get down?” 

His eyes widened and he laughed. “ _Liebling_ , I’ve seen you actually fly.” 

She laughed, too, when she realized how absurd her predicament must seem to him. “Well, yes, but on wind currents! Would you like a small hurricane in your room?” 

“At this point, I’m starting to feel like I already have one.” 

“Watch it, now.” She crossed her arms stubbornly, and they stared at each other as seconds ticked by. Finally, Kurt sighed and walked closer to the hammock. 

“So, to get out you have three options. First, you could just jump out like I did. It’s not as high as it looks. Second, I could teleport you out. Or thirdly, you could roll out and I could catch you.” To demonstrate the last point, he widened his stance and held his arms out at chest-height. 

Ororo bit her lip as she weighed her options. “You’d really catch me?” 

“That, or I might just drop you right on the floor. I was, by far, the worst acrobat the _Jahrmarkt_ ever employed.” He stares up at her with an amused smirk. Kurt is really too polite to roll his eyes at her, but she can tell the intention is there. 

“Okay, fine! We’ll do that one!” She lay back down, crossed her arms across her chest, and closed her eyes. With a quick breath, she rolled over the side of the hammock, and Kurt caught her a split-second later, not missing a beat. She was slightly embarrassed by how quickly she wrapped both arms around his neck for stability. So close to his chest, she can feel as well as hear him laugh at her reaction. 

“See? Safe and sound.” he assured her, smiling warmly. 

“Thank you. Although, at the circus, I’m sure it was more like…” She kept the arm closest to him wrapped around his shoulders and extending the other arm with a showman’s flair, while bending one knee and straightening the other leg dramatically. 

“Haha! Perfect. I’ll make an acrobat troupe out of the X-Men, yet.” Kurt set her down carefully while still laughing to himself. “Now, I really do have to get ready. Good night, and thank you for the plant.” 

She walked to his door and paused in the entryway. “Of course. I’m glad to have found it a good home. Have a good night, and have fun at church!” 

He chuckled quietly and leaned against his door. “Well, ‘fun’ is a strong word for church, but there might be some good hymns…” 

She smiled and was just about to leave when a sudden thought jumped to the forefront of her mind. “Wait!” she said, grabbing his forearm and leaning in to him, “Did you orchestrate our plan?” she almost-whispered close to his ear. 

In turn, he tilted his head towards her and whispered back, “Not yet. When I get back from church, he’ll be gone. I’ll do it then.” 

She released her grip on him and walked out of his room, turning one last time. “Good. Keep me informed!” she said with a smile, and returned to her room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song "Saturday Night" by the Bay City Rollers, released in 1975.  
> Also, the next chapter is going to be called "I Might Like You Better If We Slept Together," so anyone waiting patiently for people to start banging may get their wish granted. Just sayin'.


	8. I Might Like You Better If We Slept Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jubilee and Peter attempt to do the dishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this a crack pairing? Maybe.  
> Also, this chapter contains some (not overly explicit) action. If that's not your jam, please advert your eyes.

“Oohmygod, how are there so many dishes? It doesn’t make any sense!” Jubilee tipped her head back and groaned. 

“What? You don’t use five plates when you eat a sandwich?” Peter asked sarcastically. 

“Uuugh…Anyway, I’ll wash them if you dry them and put them away. The sooner we get to it, the sooner we can do _anything else_ …” Jubilee said, reaching under the sink for the dish gloves and dish soap. 

“It’d go, like, waaaaay faster if _I_ wash and _you_  put away…” Peter pointed out, pulling his goggles down off his head for demonstration. 

“No! Put those away! If we have to clean up a ton of water off the floor, broken glass shards, and soap off the ceiling, we’ll never be done! Plus, I don’t think I can survive another ‘Scott lecture’…” Jubilee pointed at him with a bright-yellow-rubber-gloved hand. 

Peter shrugged and put his goggled back above his hairline. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I already got one of those today. That’s pretty much my quota.” 

Jubilee laughed ask she let the sink fill up with hot soapy water. “You let Scott lecture you? He’s younger than you! Just take his lunch money or something.” 

“Eh…He’s usually right. I just wish he wasn’t such a fucking square about it…” Peter explained with a disinterested frown. 

“He’s basically the Mayor of Squaresville.” Jubilee started rinsing off the first of the clean dishes. Peter snatched the plate out of her hand, and had it dried and set away faster than one could see. He returned to his position of leaning next to the sink. 

“When I first met Scott, yeah, I thought he was the Mayor of Squaresville.” Peter said as he waited impatiently for Jubilee to wash more dishes while chewing a piece of gum obnoxiously. “But once I got to know Kurt a little better, I realized he’s, like, the King of Squareslandia or some shit.” 

“I think he’d actually be called a _Kaiser_ , being German and all…” Jubilee pointed out. She set more clean dishes down, and ducked to avoid the splatter caused by Peter putting them away. “At least he doesn’t lecture people.” 

“He scolds them! That’s, like, almost as bad.” Peter insisted. 

“Now, be honest. What did you do to deserve it?” Jubilee looked up at Peter expectantly. 

“Well, the odd crude joke or prank, but really, about ninety percent of it is just me going on about how hot his mom is.” 

“See? You deserve it.” 

Peter packed away another stack of dishes in an impossible flourish, and returned to his spot next to the sink. He leaned in closer to Jubilee, seemingly studying how she scrubbed the dishes. “Sooo… What do you got going on after this? Going out with the girls or what?” 

She scoffed. “As if! Jean’s out with Scott all night, I doubt she’ll reappear until morning. And ‘Ro has a book, apparently? I didn’t ask.” 

“Ha! A book! Is it one of those dirty girl romance novels with the long-haired dude on the cover, with the ripped shirt all like…” Peter stood back from the sink to strike what was a decent attempt at a Fabio impression.   

“Pfft! She wishes! It’s like Frankenstein or Moby-Dick or The Scarlet Letter or some other high-school-level garbage. She has to read it for class.” 

“Lame! I never read any of the books I was supposed to read for high school, and I…” Peter started rambling with bravado, but then paused to think. “Well, I guess I dropped out and never graduated… Stay in school kids!” He finished by giving Jubilee a friendly punch in the shoulder. 

“Knock it off!” she squealed, flicking soapy water at him. “For your information, I already graduated. Been there, done that.” She set some clean dishes aside and moved on to some pots and pans. “EW! What the fuck is this baked-on shit! Someone should have soaked this or something…” 

“I think maybe that someone was supposed to be us…” Peter said guiltily after putting away more dishes. “I can scrub it really fast if it’s that bad. No biggie!” 

“Meh… I can just fill it with hot soapy water and set it aside. If it’s still stuck on when the rest of the dishes are done, then go nuts.” Jubilee said with a bored shrug. 

“You still didn’t tell me what you have on for later…” Peter leaned harder on the counter, gazing down with uncharacteristic focus. Jubilee pulled both hands out of the sink and turned to face him, tilting her head slightly to match the angle of his lean against the counter. 

“Sure I did. I said nothing, because I got nothing on…schedule’s wide open…” 

Peter instantaneously became more animated. “Sweet! I mean, like, did you wanna maybe come play some video games later on? If you want? I have an Atari in my room, I got Pitfall!, I got Space Invaders…” Peter continued to list games he owned by counting them off on his fingers, his deep brown eyes drifting upwards as he struggles to remember them all. It’s almost as if some particular game would be the magic ‘Sure, I’ll hang out with you’ ticket, and it makes Jubilee think that he looks so much younger than he is. 

“Sure. That sounds awesome.” she finally interrupted, and his smile was nothing short of victorious. She smiled back, before remembering that, although a night of video games with friends was far superior to a night of quiet solitude, it was painfully reminiscent of being in ninth grade again. But, she saw a clear opportunity to shift the evening in a more adult direction. She gave her (expertly crimped) hair a slight toss and looked him up and down coyly. “But I was thinking, ‘Ro had said you were nice enough to go to the liquor store for her a while back, and I’d do _just about anything_  for a bottle of peach schnapps…”    

Peter’s face lit up. “Oh, sweet, I fuckin’ love peach schnapps! Wanna split a bottle and play video games and and get buzzed and talk shit about all these other losers? Liquor store’s open for another couple hours, there’s tons of time…” he rambled with increasing speed and intensity. 

“That’d be totally awesome! Yeah, back in high school, they called peach schnapps liquid panty dropper! It’s essentially booze candy, I love it!” 

“Ha! You mix it, or just go straight? Ever have peppermint schnapps? It’s, like, amazing in hot chocolate, but you gotta watch yourself, it’ll fuck you up without you even noticing…That’s one New Years at the Maximoff house I’d like to forget… ” he said with a sour look towards the end. 

“Heh…Never tried the peppermint…maybe not in the summer. I usually just drink it straight. I mean, you can mix it with orange juice if it’s like, ten o’clock in the morning, or something like that…” She trailed off, pleased, but a little disappointed that any attempt at seduction seemed to fly completely over his head. Neither of them had touched the dishes in a while. 

Peter paused, glancing over Jubilee and actually looking like he was trying to think before he spoke. “So earlier…” he started tentatively, “did I hear you right when I heard you say you’d do ‘just about anything’ for a bottle of booze?” 

Fucking _finally_. She resisted the urge to nod enthusiastically, deciding to play it cool instead. “Yeah, you heard right.” she said, looking him up and down as she did so. 

“Now, what does ‘anything’ mean?” he asked, moving closer. 

“What would you like it to mean?” she countered, raising an eyebrow. 

He leaned even closer, and lowered his voice to just barely above a whisper. “Could it be something…physical?” He meets her gaze, his eyes are wide and questioning. 

She tries desperately to downplay the building excitement she’s feeling, and moves forward some more, now occupying a space that would be considered in his ‘personal bubble’. She smirks. “Try me.” 

An enthusiastic grin lights up his face, and he instantly thrusts his bruised, swollen thumb in her face. “Doya think you could, like, blast this off or something? With your powers? Or like maybe rip it off with some pliers? I already asked the guys and they were too big of pussies, so I said ‘Jubes is cool, she can help me!’ and I’d do it myself but I kinda get queasy thinking about it, and as long as it’s quick I think it’ll feel much better, cuz it’s fucking killing me right now, it just throbs and throbs and throbs…” he rattled off, almost too fast to be understood. 

Jubilee recoiled in shock and disgust. “Dude, I am not blasting your gnarly fucking thumb off, holy fuck!” she cried shrilly, shoving his hand away. 

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Not the whole thumb, wouldn’t that be stupid! Just the nail.” he assured her. 

“Ugh, gag me! No!” She was not assured at all. 

He leaned back from her and eyed her suspiciously. “Then, like, what were you talking about?” 

Jesus Christ he was making this difficult. “I don’t know!” she cried. “Not ripping body parts off you, that’s for damn sure!” She flails her still-gloved hands as she speaks, sending suds flying. His head tilts quizzically. “I guess I was thinking more like hooking up or a make-out session or something like that! I don’t know!” 

He pulled back further, perhaps even more shocked than she was by his thumb. “Uh, _why!?_ ” 

“Why not?” She couldn’t help but sound indignant.   

“Well, for starters, I’m not the kind of _fuckin’ sicko_  who trades sexual favors for booze in a ****fucking high school****! I said I’d get you booze, you don’t have to, like, _do anything_  for it! That’s gross! AND! I’m, like, basically old enough to be your dad!” He ranted with a bewildered expression, eyes darting around the room and hands moving rapidly. 

“Uh, excuse me? Were you not listening to me earlier? I’ve graduated, I’m not a student. You should fucking know that, we’re around each other almost every day. And, how young do you think I am? You’re nowhere near dad-age to me, I’m sure there’s less than ten years between us. I’m nineteen years old, that’s old enough to fuck whoever I want, whenever I want, so you can just wipe that scandalized expression off your face.” She ranted in one breath, growing agitated. He was quickly silenced, but continued to stare uneasily at her. 

She took a deep breath to calm herself before starting. “Look. I just… I don’t think you’re some kind of perv, not at all. I just think that you’re kinda hot, and I like your hair, and you’re funny, and, like, you always seem bored, and maybe a little lonely, and I’m bored and maybe a little lonely, too, and I just thought that maybe you’d be interested in fooling around a bit, but I was just using the booze as kinda like an ‘in,’ rather than just being like ‘Hey, wanna bang?’…..and I dunno, forget I said anything. Let’s just do the dishes.” She turned back to the sink and shoved her hands back into the soapy water. 

Peter stood and stared in silence for what, for him, was an almost freakish amount of time. Jubilee scrubbed dishes with an unnecessary amount of force, refusing to look back in his direction. Finally, he bent sideways over the counter, ensuring that he would creep into her line of sight. “You know…” he started, smirking slightly as she tried to duck his gaze in embarrassment. “For future reference, ‘Hey, wanna bang?’ works just fine. It’s best to keep things simple for me, I’m kind of an idiot.” 

She laughed and looked at him side-on. “Oh, does it now?” 

He shrugged with a casual smile. “I mean, yeah, if you’re up for it. We can roll it into an evening of messing around, booze, and video games if you want? Make a night of it? Assuming I didn’t ruin everything by being an ass?”    

She sighed and smiled up at him. “Well, I was kind of an ass, too, so if we can both accept that we’re both assholes, I think it sounds like a plan.” She could feel herself becoming giddy again, but resolved to try and play it cool. 

“Sweet! Cuz, like, if hooking up with one of the biggest babes I know is the price I have to pay in order to have someone to play games with, I think I’m willing to make that sacrifice…” 

She flicked him with suds again. “Wow. You are so noble.” 

He grinned. “So like, how do you wanna do this? We can move this up to my room? That’s where my console is, and I got some sweet blacklight posters up there you might wanna check out…” He held his hands up, with a dreamy look in his eyes, to demonstrate the sheer awesomeness of his posters. “We can even do your thing first…” he continued, referring, apparently, to hooking up, “Then maybe try my thing…” he added, holding up his injured thumb, “and then spend the rest of the evening drinking and gaming and talking shit.” 

“Hmmm….” Jubilee considered her options. “How about we do my thing, then move on to games and drinks and gossip, for a while, and then maybe…MAYBE…if we get drunk enough, we can try your thing.” she explained. 

“Okay, so, like, first of all, what we’re NOT going to do right now is these fucking dishes. Because fuck ‘em.” he said authoritatively. 

Jubilee whipped off her rubber gloves and threw them in the sink. “Yeah! Fuck ‘em!” she exclaimed, no longer hiding her enthusiasm, and stepping back into Peter’s personal space. She closed the distance between them entirely, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“I can have us in my room in a tenth of a second. It’s mostly clean and it’s got the games, the posters, and I could throw some Rush on the stereo, if you’re into that sorta thing…” He wrapped his arms around her waist, lingering over the section of bare skin between where her crop top ended and her shorts began. 

She raked her nails up the back of his neck and into his scalp. “Better idea. My room. It’s _actually_  clean, I got a full box of condoms in the bedside table, and you can always hook your console up to my TV later…” She punctuated her statement by grabbing the back of his head and pulling his mouth to hers. They kiss aggressively and desperately, all tongue and no sense of propriety, and for some reason they both taste like bubblegum. 

He pulls away only to breathe “You’re so fucking smart.” 

She hops up in order to wrap both legs completely around his waist. He clutches her closer and tighter. “Are we ready?” she asks, searching his face for any sign of hesitation.   

He reaches one hand up in order to put his goggles on. “Fuck yeah. I already unhooked your bra.” 

Holy shit. He did. The transport from the kitchen to her bedroom happens faster than she can think.  

******

  

“What. The fuck. Was that?” Jubilee lay naked across the foot of her bed. She propped herself up on her elbows to glare at Peter accusingly. He sat, cross-legged and also fully nude, a few feet away as he tried to figure out how her TV’s remote control worked. 

“...I don’t follow…” he said with a confused shrug. 

“What do you think!?” She exclaimed, frustrated. He stared blankly back. She sat up to start the hunt for her clothes, which were basically everywhere. She found her underwear on the bedpost and started to put them on. “For starters, it literally took me longer to get undressed than it did for us to fuck.” 

He seemed to finally catch her meaning, and his gaze darted around the room guiltily. “Well, I mean, I did offer to help you with that…” 

“Oh please. I _like_  my clothes. I don’t want them all stretched out or ripped all to shit because you’re in too big a hurry to have fifteen seconds of sex. Plus, knowing you, I’d end up getting strangled by a bra strap or something.” she ranted angrily while trying to bat her crop top off the blade of a ceiling fan. She wasn’t sure what she was more upset at: the disappointing sex or the fact that she now owed Jean ten bucks. 

He held up his hands in self-defence. “Oh, come on! I can take clothes off without wrecking them. I actually manage to dress and undress myself every day without explosions or injuries.” Jubilee rolled her eyes and kept hopping and batting at her wayward shirt. His expression softened into something resembling embarrassment. “So, you’re telling me that you didn’t….um…” 

She could only dignify that with a disgusted scoff. 

“Cuz, I thought, I mean, I’m pretty sure I heard…like, I just assumed….” He, for the first time all evening, developed a deep rosy blush that spread all the way to his chest, as he sheepishly tried to explain his performance, or lack thereof. 

Jubilee sighed. “Okay, so, I know I can be a bit…vocal, I guess? But that doesn’t mean I, like, ‘got there.’ Really, I doubt you’ll find any woman who’s gonna cum in that amount of time.” 

“Well, why didn’t you say something? I didn’t wanna, like, ‘leave you hangin’” Now it was Jubilee’s turn to look confused. Peter leaned forward and propped his elbow on his knee, waving the other arm around as he explained himself. “So, like, earlier when I said I was kind of an idiot? I really meant that. I’m an idiot. Believe it or not, it’s been, like, _a while_ since I’ve been with anybody, and I’m not the best with body language to begin with, so….like I said. Idiot.” She stopped reaching for her shirt and turned to hear him, placing one hand on her hip. “But, like, if I knew what you needed, I guarantee I’d do my fuckin’ best to give it to ya, so if you’re still down for it, why don’t you come over here and I’ll make it up to you?” He finished by patting both thighs, a clear invitation for her to come sit in his lap. 

“Ha! Right now? Don’t guys usually gotta roll over and fall asleep after sex?” she asked, amused but skeptical.    

He lit up instantly. “Not this guy!” he exclaimed, pointing both thumbs towards himself dramatically. Jubilee tilted her head quizzically. “I think it’s, like, my mutation or something? Just because I’ve finished doesn’t mean I can’t just keep going. I don’t really have a… I think they call it a ‘refractory period?’ So basically I can just keep it up until someone tells me to stop.” 

Jubilee’s mouth dropped open. “Wow. This is a _startling development_ , if true…” She had to admit, as frustrated as she was by their earlier activities, the sight of Peter naked, blushing, flustered, and eager to please was too good to pass up. Especially since he was still conveniently located on her bed. 

“’If true…?’ Just come over here and see for yourself…” he replied. An open invitation. She grinned, despite herself, and practically skipped back to the bed, clamoring her way on to his lap, settling with her knees on the mattress and her arms around his neck. He runs his hands up her naked back and tilts his head back to look at her. They kiss again, slower than before, but no more restrained. She managed to locate the piece of bubblegum he had been chewing and claimed it for herself. She couldn’t help but moan when they broke the kiss and he moved his head back down, at her chest, and he started to kiss, nibble, and caress her breasts with a gentleness she hadn’t expected. She raked her nails through his hair and held him there, and shifted her hips in his lap. She gasped when she felt him, already rock hard again, against her inner thigh. 

“Wow. You weren’t kidding…” she panted. 

“Heh. Would I lie?” he replied with his eyebrow raised, a little too cocky for her liking. “This time,” he added, “just tell me when you finish, okay?” 

She laughed, and grasped his wrists, pushing him back onto the bed and pinning them above his head in one motion. “Oh, trust me. This time, I won’t have to tell you. You’ll fucking know.” 

******

 

 “Fuuuuuck.” Jubilee was back to her previous position of laying across the foot of her bed. Her underwear had joined her shirt on the blades of her ceiling fan. 

“I guess second time’s a charm, hmm?” Peter leaned over to rub her thigh, looking smug. 

“I’d nod, but I don’t think I can move.” she groaned with her eyes closed. Her body still seemed to buzz and her limbs were rubber. 

“Heh. Anyway, I’m off to grab my Atari. Be back in a sec…” Peter hopped off the bed and bounced into his pants. “Don’t fall asleep on me, now!” 

“I’m not asleep, I’m just comfortable…” she said, before peeking out of one eye. “Don’t you need your shirt?” 

“Pfft. No one’s gonna see me, why bother?” he shrugged casually. “Back in a jiff…”And he was gone, her door having opened and closed almost imperceptibly fast. She groaned again, and made a move to start getting re-dressed. She was able to knock her underwear off the fan with the help of a curling iron, and stepped back into it. On impulse, she grabbed the well-worn ‘Pink Floyd’ shirt off her floor and pulled it on. She hardly had time to rescue her own shirt from the fan before Peter suddenly appeared back in her room, with a gust of wind and the rapid sound of her door opening and closing. He halted in his tracks, and stared at her, dragging his gaze up and down her body. 

She tried to play it casual. “I hope you don’t mind. I was too lazy to put my own clothes back on.” 

“Do I mind? That’s fucking hot!” 

She laughed and looked down at herself. “Well, whatever floats your boat, I guess…” He couldn’t even respond verbally. He just chewed his lip and nodded stupidly. She laughed again at his reaction, and stepped forward to take the gaming console out of his hands. “I can set this up if you wanna hit up the liquor store. There’s cash in my purse on the bureau, I’m not sure how much it costs so take whatever you need.” 

He finally broke out of his trance. “Pfft, don’t worry about it. We’re sharing, so I can get this one, and you can get the next one, if you wanna make this kinda a ‘thing’…” he started off easy, but quickly shut his mouth at the end of the sentence, apparently aware he may have said more than intended. 

She picked up on the sudden awkwardness, but chose to ignore it. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good, thanks!” She knelt in front of the TV to start the process of hooking up the game system. 

“Cool, great. So I’ll be back in a couple minutes.” Peter said, pointing towards the door. “Did you want anything else? Snacks or whatever?” 

“Makes no difference to me. Don’t you need your shirt?” She asked, grasping the hem of the shirt she had on. 

“Nah, I’ll just…I’ll just find another shirt.” he stammered, nodding way more than was necessary. 

“Okay!” she called after him as he zipped out of the room again. 

******

 

Peter had returned only a few minutes later with a quart of peach schnapps and an armload of snacks, with an excuse about having a ridiculous metabolism. She was thankful, because as soon as he left she had realized she was __starving__ , and she had no intention of getting dressed decently enough to go downstairs for food. The next couple hours were filled with junk food, taking turns playing video games, and drinking booze straight out of the bottle. Of course, as time went on and they both got drunker and drunker, the topics of conversation became more and more risque. 

“Oh my God! I can’t believe she’s hasn’t just been like ‘get the fuck down there!,’ that’s nuts!” Peter said, a little too loudly, eyes glued to the screen and leaning back and forth as he handled the joystick. Jubilee had let the details of Scott and Jean’s ‘predicament’ slip, much to Peter’s amusement. She left out the part about there being a standing bet, mainly because she didn’t want to drunkenly explain that she owed Jean money. 

“Uh-huh! And she hasn’t gone down on him, either, so like, they should both be in, like, relationship jail…” she exclaimed with a laugh. “Although, ‘Ro and I gave her a bit of a crash course this afternoon, so if he’s all relaxed and happy tomorrow, then you’re welcome…” she finished with a snap of her fingers and a point in his direction. 

“I dunno if ‘relaxed and happy’ is a realistic expectation, but he might come down to the level of a normal person, for an hour or so…” Peter said with a scoff. He had entered a part of the game that required a lot of concentration and quick thinking. Normally that wouldn’t be a struggle for him, but the liquor had taken it’s toll.      

“Omigawd, watch out for that guy!” Jubilee moved closer to him, positioning herself behind him and grabbing his shoulders. “Dodge! Move out of the way! There are too many projectiles! Get to the bottom of the screen! Now hit it! Not like that!” she cried frantically, practically wrapped around his back and flailing one arm over his shoulder and towards the screen. Finally, with considerable effort on both of their parts, Peter managed to pass the level. Peter threw his arms in the air and they both cheered loudly, until they quickly shushed themselves and giggled, suddenly remembering it was late at night and this was a school.   

Peter passed Jubilee the controller, and took another swig of booze. “So… tell me more about this ‘crash course’ you and ‘Ro gave Jean?” he asked, slurring slightly and raising an eyebrow suggestively. 

Jubilee started making progress through the easy part of the game level. “Can’t tell you. Sworn to secrecy. Girl code.” she said plainly, not looking at him.    

“Pfft. I’m sure.” 

“Yep. Top secret. No boys allowed.” she said with a decisive nod. She glanced at him side on and smirked. “Although, depending how things go, you might get a demonstration one of these days…” 

That shut him up. “…Oh..Kay…fair enough. Sounds good.” He reached into the bag of snacks and opened a box of Whoppers, the chocolate-covered malted milk balls. He poured a couple into his mouth, and tipped the box towards Jubilee. With both hands and her eyes occupied with her game, she nodded once and held her mouth open. He expertly tossed one in her mouth, and she crunched it with a smile. 

“So…Like…what’s the deal with ‘Ro actin’ like she wants to get on Kurt’s dick?” Peter asked out of the blue, stretched out on the floor. 

Jubilee never shifted her gaze from the screen, as the game had gotten considerably harder. “The ‘deal’ is that she wants on his dick…”     

“Ha! No way!” Peter doubled up with laughter, rolling to his side. “Why!?” he added when he could breathe again. 

Jubilee shrugged. “Cuz I told her she should get on his dick?” 

“Really!? You started it?” Peter asked in disbelief. 

“Yeah, I guess so, and I’m disappointed in her lack of progress, frankly.” Jubilee said, her movements on the controller having become frantic. “I mean, she’s hot and he’s probably secretly slutty, so what’s the hold up? They should be bangin’ right now.” Peter started laughing hysterically, doubling over again, with tears rolling down his face. 

“Whaaaat!” he squeaked shrilly through bouts of laughter. “What the fuck made you think that!” 

“I don’t know! Aren’t Catholics usually slutty? And Europeans!” she cried, struggling to stay alive in the game and defend herself at the same time. 

“You watch too much porno!” Peter laughed and jabbed her sides with his finger. 

“Knock it off!” She tried, and failed, to kick him. “I don’t watch _any_  porno!” 

“Oh, sure…” Peter rolled his eyes. “Kurt’s so not-slutty that I made a tasteful joke about ‘Ro giving him a handjob, and he was, like, _shocked and appalled!_ ” 

“What?! Who wouldn’t want a handjob from ‘Ro? Her skin is so soft…” Jubilee asked in disbelief. 

“Oh? Go on…” Peter asked suggestively, rolling onto his stomach and propping his head up in his hands. 

“Can’t. Girl code.” Jubilee replied with an evil smirk. 

“Aaargg!” Peter groaned and let his head fall forward and thump on the floor. 

“The worst part is that now I owe Jean money. Stupid telepaths always knowing who’s a slut and who isn’t…” Jubilee lamented. She instantly regretted mentioning that there were bets involved, but a sudden difficulty spike in the game meant she couldn’t dwell on her mistake very long. She hunched over the controller with complete concentration, hands moving with surgical precision. 

“Ooh shit! C’mon, you got this!” Peter recoiled in anxiety from watching Jubilee play, but refrained from climbing all over her like she did to him when their roles were reversed. After several nail-biting minutes, she defeated the level. They both cheered (again, too loudly) and raised their arms in celebration, which somehow rolled itself into a semi-drunken hug. 

“Uuugh…I think I’m done with games for the night. The flashing lights are starting to make me queasy…” Jubilee groaned, setting down the controller. 

“Yeah that’s probably enough for me, too.” Peter agreed. “Although….we still didn’t get to try…” he started tentatively, and then held up his injured thumb. 

“Oh! EW!” Jubilee cried, and then actually gagged. “I forgot about that!” 

“Well, I didn’t! It still hurts like hell!” Peter complained, adding “I don’t want you to _actually_  throw up, though, so we can always just leave it till later…” 

“Eh, I think I’ll be just as likely to throw up later. Lemme take a look, anyways. Maybe I can twist it off with some tweezers or something?” Jubilee said begrudgingly. She took Peter’s hand in hers and looked at his thumb as analytically as a drunk person on a sugar high could. Peter clenched his eyes shut and cringed as she poked and squeezed it. Finally, she tossed it away from her and gave him a slight kick. “You big baby! It’s just bruised! The nail’s not cracked or anything! I don’t know what the fuck you think ripping the nail off is gonna fix, but it definitely wouldn't make it any better!” She rolled her eyes in frustration, and grabbed the box of Whoppers. 

“Then why’s it hurt so much! What am I supposed to do about it?” Peter whined. 

“Cuz you’re a baby! Take a Tylenol and go to bed, God!” Jubilee mumbled through a mouthful of Whoppers. “Speaking of which…” she said after she had finished eating the candy, “I better hit the hay. We do actually have training tomorrow. I’d hate to be hung over AND sleep deprived…” 

“Oh, cool, sounds good…” Peter said, sounding a little more regretful than casual. “Guess I should head back to my room, then?” 

“Sleep here if you want, I don’t give a fuck.” she replied, actually managing to sound nonchalant. 

“Really? You should know I only sleep in -at the most- forty-five minute intervals.” Peter hurriedly explained. 

“You can sleep on the damn ceiling if you want, as long as you don’t snore.” she said with a shrug. “I mean, if you wake up and wanna play your game, just keep the sound off. I don’t care.” Peter grinned and nodded. His enthusiasm at being allowed to stay over reminded her of the sleepovers she’d go to in grade school. She walked over to her bed and flopped down, wiggling under the covers and rolling away from him and the light of the TV. She was still wearing his shirt. “G’niiight…” she groaned sleepily. 

No more than a second ticked by when she was startled by a stiff breeze moving over her, the sudden creak and dip of another person’s weight being added to the bed behind her, the arm slung lazily over her middle and hot breath on the back of her neck. “Niiiiight…” Peter mumbled into her nape. She couldn’t help but laugh. Maybe a little less like her grade school sleepovers, then? 

She reached up and past her own head to pat his silvery hair. “Goodnight, Peter.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter, ' I Might Like You Better If We Slept Together' is a line from the song "Never Say Never' by Romeo Void, released in 1982.  
> The next chapter also contains some (possibly more explicit) action. If that still isn't your jam, please continue to advert your eyes.


	9. The Heat Is On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott and Jean get back from their date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some action in this chapter, marginally more explicit than last chapter.

Jean watched the streetlights and neon whizz by as Scott drove them back to the mansion from the movie theatre. They had gotten dinner at a cute family-style Italian place, and then gone to see the late-night showing of _Creature_ , a horror movie in set in space. 

“What is it about this town, that everything shuts down after ten o’clock? Every time we’re out to a movie or something, everything’s closed by the time we head home!” Scott complained absently. 

“Oh, please. You know it’s past your bedtime, too.” Jean said with a smirk. 

“Soo…What did you think of the movie?” Scott asked, reaching one hand off the steering wheel to jostle her knee. 

“Hmm…” Jean drummed her fingers on her kneecap. “I liked the movie. However, I think that the movie was trying to channel the sort of psycho-sexual paranoia and isolation that made Alien so good, but lacked both the subtly and the intensity to do so.” 

“Okay, yeah, I can see that.” Scott said, nodding without taking his eyes off the road. “I _didn’t_  like the movie. It was really dark. It was too dark, and I couldn’t see the monster.” 

“Oh, that’s disappointing. That’s, like, the whole point of monster flicks.” 

“Damn straight it is!” Scott started ranting, “and there’s like a ton of movies that have some awesome scary monster but film everything in almost complete darkness, it’s like…” 

“Almost like they don’t account for the viewer having to wear sunglasses all the time?” Jean offered sympathetically. 

“Yeah, exactly. Jerks.” Scott laughed at his own expense. 

“Hey, at least the food was good!” Jean redirected. 

“Yeah, that place is great! I got, like, a ton of meatballs. Normally when you order spaghetti and meatballs you get like, three. Your chicken looked good, too.” 

“Yeah, it was delicious! Did I read the menu right when it said they have all-you-can-eat lasagna on Wednesdays?” Jean leaned in skeptically. 

“Yep, that’s right! They’re kinda famous for it.” 

“Wow! You know what we should do? When that new _Mad Max_ movie comes out, we should get, like, everyone to come out and see it and then get all-you-can-eat lasagna. The whole gang. It’d be a blast!” Jean said excitedly. 

“Those poor restaurant owners!” Scott lamented. “I mean, I alone can eat an embarrassing amount of lasagna. Can you imagine having to feed Peter? He’s a hummingbird, he’s constantly eating as it is. And you just know it would end up being a competition.” 

“My money might actually be on Jubes. Don’t get between her and carbs.” Jean pointed out. “Besides, they can’t offer all-you-can-eat if they can’t keep up with demands. If you can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen!” 

“There wouldn’t be anything left in the kitchen!” Scott cried. “I can just see the headlines now: Local eatery shuts doors after mutants ruin everything, again…” 

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic!” Jean shoved his shoulder gently. “I’m sure Peter would restrain himself. Besides, ‘Ro and Kurt may never have had lasagna before. They might not even like it.” 

“As if anyone on this planet could dislike lasagna…” Scott grumbled. They had pulled into the driveway of the mansion and stopped at the gate. It required a button on a remote to be pressed in order to open it, and Scott searched awkwardly for it. “Jean, can you hand me the remote key? It’s in the glove box, or maybe the ash tray, or maybe behind the sun visor?” 

“Oh, here…” she muttered, and with a sweep of her hand, the gate rolled open. 

“Oh. Okay, even better…” Scott said with an impressed nod. 

He drove the car into the large garage where the Professor kept several cars. Some were vintage models, and seemed very expensive, but the one he let Scott borrow this evening was a relatively modern, mid-grade sedan. Scott pulled into the car’s designated parking space and turned of the engine. He unbuckled his seat belt and turned to Jean, looking like he was trying to formulate a thought. Jean smiled back and waited. 

“You’re so beautiful.” was all he could come up with. 

“Well, I try.” she said with a casual shrug. The dark green mini dress she had worn out tonight was tight in all the right places, and was _definitely_  her color. Not that Scott could see that, but whatever.   

He leaned closer to her and they met in the middle, kissing sweetly at first, hands in each other’s hair. As things became more heated, Jean tilted her head back as Scott moved to her jawline, neck, and collarbone. She ran her hands across his shoulders and brought her leg up across his thigh, awkward as it was in the confined space of the car’s front seats. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all day…” he breathed into the crook of her neck. He was stroking her thigh (the one without the bruise- lesson learned) past the hem of her skirt. His arm snaked around her lower back, pressing her closer to him. 

“Hmmmm….” she hummed in approval. “Why don’t we move this to my room?” she whispered in his ear, gently biting his ear lobe for punctuation. 

“What’s wrong with right here?” he replied, running his fingertip over the zipper on the back of her dress. 

“Ha!” she laughed sharply. 

He pulled back to look at her. “What?” 

“We’re in a garage!” she pointed out, as if it were some kind of revelation. 

“So? When you think about it, we have just as much privacy here as we do in either of our rooms!” he attempted to explain. 

“No way! Anyone could just walk in at any time!” she countered. They had each moved back into their respective seats, and she moved her arm around her to demonstrate the lack of privacy. 

“No one’s coming into the garage at twelve thirty at night!” 

“You don’t know that! Besides! There isn’t even enough room in this car for me to undress myself, let alone with you in here with me!” She motioned over her body, indicating her clothes. 

“Well, we could move to the backseat, or put the front seats back!” Scott reached under the front seat and found the lever that allowed the seat to move all the way back, so he could move into a sitting/laying position. He held his hands up as if to say ‘ta-da!’ 

“I’m going to my room. You can either come with me, or you can stay here and have fun by yourself.” Jean stated plainly, before grabbing her purse and opening the car door. 

“Ugh! Fine!” he exclaimed, after she actually left the vehicle and started walking away. “Now I gotta walk up two flights of stairs hoping no one notices that I have a boner, thanks…” he mumbled quietly to himself. 

“Just untuck your shirt. No one’s gonna look at your crotch.” she called out to him. He jogged a few steps to catch up with her, while untucking his shirt. 

“Reading my mind is rude!” he pointed out, half-joking. 

She laughed and glanced away from him. “Mumbling is rude.” She hooked her arm around his elbow and placed her hand on his forearm. “Glad you decided to join me.” she said, and they walked in together.   

******

 

As Jean expected, they encountered no one on their walk to her room. Upon entering the room and closing the door behind them, she tossed her purse and coat in the corner, kicked off her shoes, and jumped dramatically onto her bed. 

“Look at all this space! Whatever will we do with it?” she asked sarcastically with a grin, propping her head up with her elbow and crossing her legs at the ankle. She watched him as he pulled his shoes off. 

“Okay, I get it…” he groaned. He walked over to the bed and essentially fell into her open arms, burying his face in her neck. 

“Ha, well, you’d probably ‘get it’ a little easier if I didn’t have to wear these stupid pantyhose!” she lamented, kicking up one long, lean, dark-nylon clad leg for emphasis. 

He ran his hand up the back of her leg, pausing to wrap around her ankle. “I don’t know about that, I think they’re kinda hot…” 

“Ha! Really?” 

“Yeah, kinda like a sexy secretary or something…” he said, running his hand back up her leg. She started laughing, devolving quickly into a giggle fit that surprised him. 

“What? Like, would you like me to collate something? Maybe do some light filing? Would that turn your crank?” she managed to say between laughs. 

“Well, I dunno? Maybe?” he shrugged. 

“Is there, like, any kind of job or station that a woman can hold that can’t be reduced to a ‘sexy-whatever’ fantasy?” Jean asked, propping herself up on her elbows. Scott rocked back into a kneeling position and scratched his head, deep in thought. 

“Uh, maybe slaughterhouse employee? That’s not very sexy. But, like, just cuz I’m not into it, doesn’t mean someone else isn’t.” 

“EW! What about…” Jean tilted her head and looked upwards, “Policewoman?” 

“That’s easy. Handcuffs.” Scott said with a nod. 

“Okay…What about zookeeper?” 

“Probably has a whip, and a desire to tame things…” 

“Alright, weird… School teacher?” 

“Detention would be interesting. We’ll leave it at that.” 

“Pffft, Okay, paging Doctor Freud…” Jean joked. 

“Doctor’s another big one. Nurse, too.” Scott confirmed, the joking flying right over his head. 

“What about nuns? They’re brides of Christ.” Jean said with serious nod. 

“Whooo boy…don’t even get me started. There’s, like, entire categories of porn dedicated to that…” Scott rolled his head back for emphasis, and noticing Jean’s raised eyebrow, corrected himself. “…That I’ve never seen. Just heard about. But, like, I know it exists.” 

“Ew. I’m telling Kurt.” 

“Go ahead. The fact that it’s offensive makes it better somehow.” 

“Gross!” Jean gave his thigh a light slap. “Well, I guess I have my work cut out for me when picking out my Halloween costume this year…” she mused to herself. 

Scott leaned in to run his hand through her long, red hair. “I dunno. You could probably dress as a potato and still look sexy…” 

“Good, cuz that’s what I had in mind…” She sat up to meet him, and slipped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a kiss. He wrapped his arms around her waist in turn, and they fell together onto the bed, kissing desperately. He ran his hands possessively up her thighs to grip her rear, before rolling them both over so she was straddling his lap. She leaned down, arms braced on both sides of his head, to kiss him deeper, while he reached behind her to deftly unzip her dress. The dress, which was strapless, fell forward off her frame once it was undone. She sat up, laughing, and quickly unhooked her strapless bra and flung it dramatically across the room. 

“Won’t be needing that…” she smirked. Even behind the glasses, she could see his eyes widen at the sudden sight of her bare chest, and he quickly sat up, nuzzling his head along her collarbone, so he could touch her with his hands and mouth. She moaned softly under his attention, and raked her nails through his hair. This only seemed to encourage him, and when the gentle scrap of his teeth on her nipple sent a chill down her spine, she gasped and clutched his head closer to her. She could feel him tense and his hand flew to his ear. 

“...Watch the glasses…” he said softly, sounding regretful at having to interrupt the mood. 

“...Sorry.” she whispered, and moved her hands down to his shoulders and back, starting to pull his shirt off. He pulled back from her so he could pull the garment over his head and throw it to the side. Now that they were both topless, she wrapped her arms back around his neck and they fell back onto the bed together, with him positioned mostly over her. She wrapped her legs around his thighs and relished the sensation of their bare skin pressed together, of being together. 

“Hmmm… you always smell so nice…” she muttered into his neck. She can hear the slight laugh come from deep in his chest. 

“It’s just Old Spice…” he said with an amused smile. He had pulled back from her enough to look at her. 

“Don’t mess with the classics, I guess!” she smiled back. 

“So why was it you were complaining about your pantyhose earlier? I’m not sure I get it…” He sat up slightly and looked down at her. She realized suddenly that she must be quite a sight- her dress was bunched both up and down so it kind of just settled at her waist like a big stupid belt. Her high-waisted dark pantyhose went almost all the way to her ribcage, and did almost nothing to conceal the black thong underwear she wore underneath them. 

“Um, well…” she started, as she tried to shimmy her bunched-up dress down her hips and off her legs. Scott helped to tug them off her hips and finally, she managed to toss it to the floor. “As you can see, they’re not very attractive, and they’re a huge pain in the ass to get off…” 

Scott stared down at her with an uncommon intensity. She had sometimes thought, because his sight was compromised, that he wasn’t as visually-oriented as other men. This seemed to be clear evidence to the contrary. And as much as she did try not to pry into people’s private thoughts, it was almost impossible to ignore the intense feeling of lust coming off of him. 

“I don’t know if I’d call them unattractive…” he finally managed to say. “Plus, I’m sure I could get them off you in less than ten seconds. You could even time me if you want.” He raised his eyebrow towards the end of the statement, almost as if it was a dare. 

“And me without my stopwatch…” she said, smiling and rolling her eyes. She leaned up and grabbed his shoulder, so she could roll him back onto his back, with her straddling him again. “Actually, I was thinking of something a little different…” She glanced up at him pointedly as she scooted down so that she was straddling his mid-thigh, and palmed his obvious erection through the thick khaki of his pants. 

“What are you…Oh…..oh God…” he started as he finally caught on to her intention. She had started unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants. “I thought we agreed that reading minds was rude?” he joked, probably out of sudden nervousness. 

“Are you complaining? Because I could stop.” She glanced up at him with her head lowered, just as she reached in the fly of his plain cotton boxers. 

“Nope, no no no, not at all.” he stammered, shaking his head. She smiled to herself as she wrapped her fingers around him and gave him a couple short, experimental strokes. He gasped and let his head fall back onto the bed, and she had to keep herself from audibly laughing. The girls were right. This was so easy. Almost every little thing she did elicited some kind of reaction. True to the sage advice she had been given earlier in the day, she started off slow, mainly using her hands and licking and mouthing around the head. Soon, encouraged by his soft moans and the way his breath hitched, she got more confident, increasing in speed and taking more of him in. When she ran her tongue over the slit, he hissed, his fingers dug into the bed covers, and his hips seemed to move of their own volition. Soon enough, she dug her fingers into the flesh of his hip just to keep him where he was. As she continued, she felt his hand on the back of his head, and wondered if this was the dreaded ‘head push’ that the girls had warned her about. But when he only moved to lovingly stroke her hair, she knew she was silly to have been concerned. The emotion pouring off him was intense and unmistakable: lust, adoration, awe. She hummed around him in appreciation, which only caused him to moan some more.   

Now, in retrospect, she wasn’t sure exactly what her intention was. She thought maybe she was going to ask him a question, maybe ask him if he liked it. Or maybe she just wanted a better look at him. She knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, having been reduced to a moaning, writhing mess. She pulled back from him briefly, working him with one hand while running the other across his abdomen. Not a split second later, she felt his muscles tense, his fingers fist into her hair, and a low, throaty groan escaped his lips. She couldn’t have timed it any worse if she had tried. 

“OW! FUCK!” 

“What!? JESUS CHRIST! Omigod omigod I’m so sorry!” 

Jean sat back, clutching her stinging right eye. Scott jumped up to meet her, grabbing both her wrists, looking completely mortified. 

“Holy fuck, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean...” he rambled, stopping only when she waved his attention away. “Does it hurt?” 

“Well, it doesn’t feel good!” she exclaimed, pulling her hand away from her face and tentatively opening her eye. “Is it all red? It kinda stings.” 

“I can’t tell when things are red.” 

“Oh. Right. Duh. Can you just hand me my face cloth from my shower caddy?” She pointed to the small plastic basket where she kept her toiletries and shower accessories. One of the drawbacks to living in a school was that everyone had to share dorm-style bathrooms and showers. Scott hopped up and got her the cloth, doing his pants back up in the process. “Thank you.” She used the face cloth to scrub her eye and face vigorously. 

“Can I get anything else for you? I feel fucking awful.” he asked sheepishly. 

“No, I mean, It’ll be fine, it’s not your fault…I don’t think… I’ve never done this before, so I don’t really know how to assign blame in this kind of situation…” She laughed a little at the absurdity of it all. 

Scott didn’t see the humor. “Does it still hurt? Is it bad? Maybe we should go get Hank…” 

“NOPE!” Jean held her hand up in a clear ‘stop right there’ sign. “I would actually rather fucking die than see Hank right now.” 

“Yeah, me too, to be honest…” Scott admitted. 

Jean let out a long sigh. “Look. It’s late, and there’s really not much else we can do about it. Why don’t you just go to bed? You can stay here or go back to your room, doesn’t matter to me. I’m going to go ask one of the girls to take a look at it for me, and then I’m going to bed, too.” 

“What good do you think the girls are gonna be able to do?” Scott asked, likely embarrassed at the thought of anyone else finding out what happened. 

“Ha!” Jean’s sudden laugh startles him. “Well, for one, this is all their fucking fault!” Scott tilts his head in confusion. “I mean, I was thinking ‘Hey, we’ll have a nice night out and then maybe have sex’ but they’re all like ‘No way! Suck his dick! It’ll be fun!’ and now look where we are…” 

“I think, at least, their hearts were in the right place…” Scott suggested, earning another sarcastic laugh from Jean. She stood up and finally managed to strip out of her pantyhose, the cause of all her problems. She grabbed a terrycloth bath robe and bundled herself up. 

“Yeah, I’m sure they were.” she said flatly. She walked up to Scott, who was sitting awkwardly on the edge of her bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and combed her fingers through his hair. “Good night. Don’t beat yourself up.” she said, kissing his forehead. He wrapped his arms around her waist. “It’s too bad. Up until, well, you know, I actually really liked it…” she muttered quietly, close to his ear. Too embarrassed to respond verbally, he gave her waist a squeeze. She squeezed him back, and turned to walk out of the room. 

******

 

Jubilee lived only three doors up the hall. Jean walked briskly, hoping not to see anyone else, but knowing that the late hour made it unlikely. She stopped in front of Jubilee’s door and was silently thankful to see the light creeping out from underneath it. She knocked on the door as loud as she thought she could get away with. The sound of shuffling within the room was instantly reassuring. The person standing in the door when it finally opened was not. 

“Oh hey! Jean, what’s up! Join the party!” Peter exclaimed joyously as he stood, shirtless, in the doorway. Jean stood in stunned silence. “Oh, Jubes is asleep but if you want some snacks or a couple rounds of Space Invaders, come on in! As long as we’re quiet…” he explained, hushing towards the end. His speech was slightly slurred. 

“What the hell?” Jean was finally able to ask. 

“What?” Peter asked back, equally confused. He paused and seemed to look Jean up and down, before leaning towards her and whispering harshly “Are you _crying?_ Do you need me to wake Jubes up? Is this, like, a _girl emergency?_ ” His expression is a mix of genuine concern and wide-eyed bewilderment. Jean realized, suddenly, how she must look. Reddened, watery eyes; smeared makeup, messy, sticky hair… 

“Peter, don’t answer mygoddamn door like you fucking live here!” Jubilee called from her bed, pulling a pillow over her head. 

“Jubes! It’s Jean! It’s a _girl emergency!_ ” Peter called out to her, way too loudly. He turned back to Jean and mumbled “I got a teenage sister, I know all about it…” as if this was supposed to be reassuring. 

“Oh shit! What’s up?” Jubilee sat up in her bed and stared at Jean expectantly. Jean noted that she was wearing a Pink Floyd shirt, and little else.    

“You know what? Nevermind. I’ll go see Ororo. Sorry for waking you.” Jean said abruptly before quickly turning on her heel and practically jogging to Ororo’s room. 

******

 

Ororo’s room was much more out-of-the-way, being as she lived in part of the attic. It was up two flights of stairs and up several long hallways. Jean was fortunate enough not to meet anyone else, although she was fully prepared to use her powers to hide herself if necessary. She jumped up the couple steps to Ororo’s door and knocked insistently. 

“One second!” a familiar, pleasant voice called from within the room. Finally. The door soon opened and Ororo stood, tying the belt of her silky robe over her light cotton nightgown. “Jean? You look awful, what happened?” 

“Are you alone?” Jean leaned in and whispered, her previous encounter having made her suspicious. 

“Oh! Of course…come in?” Ororo stood back from the door, beckoning Jean into the room. Jean walked in and closed the door behind her. Ororo directed her to sit on her bed. “Can you tell me what happened now?” she asked, when she sat down next to Jean. 

Jean spared no detail recounting the events of the evening, up to and including Peter being in Jubilee’s room. “…So basically where I’m at now is that it really stings and I don’t know if you know some trick to make it stop or whatever. Any help would be appreciated…” she finally finished breathlessly. 

Ororo stared at her for a few seconds, before taking a deep breath. “Well, honestly, I don’t think there’s a trick to it, but really I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had that happened and up until just now, I hadn’t considered it was a possibility.” 

Jean scowled. “Great…” 

“Here. Let me get you some makeup remover and a damp towel. That can’t hurt.” Ororo offered. She had no sooner stood up when the door flew open and Jubilee ran into the room, unannounced. She was still wearing the Pink Floyd shirt, but had the decency to put on a pair of plaid pajama shorts. 

“So, like, what’s this girl emergency?” Jubilee surveyed the room. 

“Oh Jesus Christ…” Jean muttered, putting her head down in her hands. Ororo took it upon herself to recount everything to Jubilee, who thought the whole thing was hilarious. 

“Wow! I didn’t even think that was possible! That’s, like, winning the reverse lottery. It’s like when you drop your toothbrush and it bounces off everything in the bathroom and lands in the toilet…” Jubilee said, almost in awe. 

“At this point, she’s mainly concerned that her eye still hurts…” Ororo tried to redirect the conversation. 

“Well, holy shit, does he have, like, acid jizz as a mutation or something? I mean, it’s not like it’s lemon juice…” Jubilee rambled. “Here. Let me take a look.” Jean straightened up begrudgingly, and Jubilee leaned in towards her face. She gently looked in Jean’s eye, pulling her eyelids slightly in order to do so. “Ew, your face is sticky, sick…” she muttered. 

“Okay. That’s enough.” Jean snapped. 

“Hold on, just a sec…” Jubilee didn’t let go of her face. “You’re wearing glitter eyeshadow, aren’t you?” 

“Uh, yeah, a little…” Jean said apprehensively. 

“Cuz I think your main problem now is that you mashed a bunch of glitter and mascara into your eye. There’s, like, little shiny flecks and black specks all over your eyeball.” Jubilee explained, before wiping her hands on her pajama shorts. 

“So essentially, if you gently remove the rest of your makeup, and give your eye a rinse like how you were taught in First Aid, you should be on the mend.” Ororo added helpfully. 

“That, or you might get pink eye. Remains to be seen.” Jubilee smirked. 

Jean sighed and fell back onto Ororo’s bed. “Thanks guys. I knew I could count on you.” 

Jubilee hopped onto the bed next to Jean. “Don’t even mention it. What are friends for?” 

Ororo also stretched out on the bed, the three of the oriented with their heads close together. “Speaking of things not to be mentioned…tomorrow we are having a chat about...” Ororo moved her hand over an area indicating the shirt Jubilee was wearing. “…This.” Jubilee laughed but offered no words.     

“What? Are you saying you haven’t gotten up to any badness this evening, ‘Ro?” Jean asked mischievously. 

“Certainly not compared to you two. I’ve been studious. I’ve been a good girl.” Ororo said, matter-of-fact, holding up a book as evidence. 

“You’ve been into the wine. That cheap stuff turns your tongue purple!” Jubilee said with a laugh, pointing at Ororo. 

Ororo giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. “It wasn’t cheap! It was on sale!” 

The three of them devolved into a laughing fit, facilitated by them constantly poking fun at each other. It continued for several minutes, until Jubilee yawned so loudly the other two stopped and stared. 

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Jean said. “I guess I better get myself sorted out and get to bed.” 

“Me too. We do have training in the morning.” Ororo agreed. 

“And it’s rude to leave a gentleman waiting…” Jubilee added with a nod. 

“Holy shit I forgot about Scott!” Jean jumped up and scurried out of the room. Jubilee collapsed with laughter again while Ororo could only shake her head. 

******

 

Scott waited in Jean’s room for some time, but eventually decided that maybe she wasn’t coming back, having possibly decided to sleep over in one of the girl’s rooms. He begrudgingly put his shirt and shoes back on and walked back to his room. When he got there, he shed his cloths into a pile, threw on a ratty pair of pajama pants and flopped down on the bed, too pissed at himself to even bother getting under the covers. Leave it to him to screw up something that literally required no participation on his part whatsoever. Now, not only would Jean _never do that again_ , she was probably super mad at him, even though she said she wasn’t mad at him. It only made sense. He was mad at himself, why wouldn’t she be mad at him? 

He groaned and rolled onto his back, and something about his desk caught his eye. Even in the dim light from the window, he could made out a shape that wasn’t there before. He sat up and walked to his desk and turned on the lamp. There, he saw a large glass jar (apparently a bulk-sized mayo jar, judging by the lid) that had been cleaned up. There were holes punched in the lid, and inside it was a layer of moist topsoil, some moss, a few smooth pebbles, a small tinfoil dish of water, and a long leafy plant sprig that was wedged into the bottom but reached almost all the way to the top. Within the jar, in various locations, were three little brown snails. One was confined to it’s shell, but the other two moved about peacefully, eye stalks waving and bobbing. 

Scott noticed a piece of paper that had been wedged under the jar. He sat down in his desk chair to read it. It read:

 

Pets for You

We are garden snails!

We are happy as long as we have water and leaves!

What are our names?

1:_______

2:_______

3:_______

 

He turned the paper over,and saw more words jotted across the other side of the paper. They read: 

 

Just ask us if you need any help, or need a babysitter!

Enjoy!

♥ Ororo and Kurt

 

The notes were clearly written in by Ororo, as evidenced by the fact that they were legible. Scott leaned back in his desk chair and looked alternately at the note and the jar. “Huh. Neat.” he said out loud, to no one. 

The sudden knock on his door startled him so much he almost jumped out of his chair. 

* _Calm down. It’s just me._ * Jean’s voice echoed in his head, apparently having picked up on his jumpiness. He quickly walked to the door and opened it. 

“Hey!” He greeted her. He held the door open for her, and closed it when she was inside. 

“Hey yourself.” she countered with a smile. She looked better. Refreshed. She had removed what was left of her makeup and put her hair up in a ponytail. “I just wanted to let you know that the girls fixed me right up, no big deal, so you can stop panicking.” 

“How’d they manage that?” he asked. 

Jean shrugged. “Girl magic?” Scott raised an eyebrow. “Really though? Turns out I just scrubbed a bunch of glitter makeup into my eye, so once I rinsed that out I felt much better.” 

Scott nodded. “Okay, makes sense.” He thought for a second and frowned. “So, I guess that means that Jubes and ‘Ro are up on all the nitty gritty details, then?” 

“Ha!” Jean laughed, cringing slightly. “You could say that. But frankly, they’re my girl friends, they would probably hear everything eventually anyways.” 

“Hmm, right. Cuz of that ‘girl code’ you’re always talking about?” 

“Yep. Exactly. Girl Code.” Jean grinned, and then appeared slightly sheepish. “Although…Peter was in Jubes’ room when I went to see her. He might know more than we’d like. There’s no code for that, sorry…” 

“What! Why?!” Scott exclaimed. 

Jean tilted her head. “Well…” 

“Okay, stop, please. It was a rhetorical ‘why,’ I don’t actually want to know any more…” Scott pleaded. 

“Ha! If you two are both in the locker room tomorrow, I imagine you won’t have a choice.” Jean pointed out with a smile. Scott groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. He resolved to change the subject, at least to preserve his sanity. 

“Hey, check this out!” He waved Jean over to his desk, and sat down on his desk chair. He pulled her into his lap and motioned to the jar and note. “Look!” 

Jean peered skeptically at the scene before her. “Gross.” she said plainly, leaning back against Scott. 

“What! They’re just snails! They’re... well, ‘cute’ is probably the wrong word, but, I mean, look at them go!” He enthusiastically pointed at one snail, which was climbing the side of the jar. 

“Yep, they’re ‘going’ all right…” Jean said sarcastically. Scott’s shoulders fell slightly. “Honey, it’s garden trash.” 

“I think I’m going to name them Inky, Blinky, and Clyde.” Scott said with resolve. 

Jean rolled her eyes and shook her head. “Don’t stay up all night with them. I’m sure they need their beauty sleep.” He smiled and laughed quietly. She threw her arms around his neck and gave him a firm squeeze. He returned the gesture by hugging his arms around her waist. “I’m going to bed. You should go to bed, too.” she mumbled into his shoulder. 

“Hmm. Yeah probably.” he agreed. She got off his lap and he walked her to the door. He paused before opening it, reaching up to hold her face in both hands. It occurred to him that he should say something. Something sweet but that wasn’t a simple compliment, something meaningful but that didn’t sound like it came from a cheesy movie. He wracked his brain, but nothing suitable came to mind. 

She smirked at him, and, quicker than he could react, surged forward to place a loud, exaggerated kiss on his lips. “Don’t give yourself a headache. Go to bed.” she said with a mischievous smile. She opened his door and stepped out of it.   

“I thought we agreed mind reading was rude.” he said. He tried to sound stern, but the humor in his voice was obvious. 

“I did no such thing. Good night!”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter, 'The Heat Is On ' is a song by Glenn Frey, released in 1984. It was on the 'Beverly Hills Cop' soundtrack.  
> Also, full disclosure: I think I watched the movie 'Creature' when I was a kid, but I can't really remember the plot that well, so I just browsed the wiki. Sorry if I offended any Creature (1985 film) super-fans out there.


	10. Love is a Battlefield

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven teaches the X-Men about explosives!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has to deal with the consequences of last night. Unless they were well behaved, then they're fine.

Jubilee sat towards the back of the room, hoping that her large, bright-pink sunglasses would hide the fact that she was hung over. She had become mesmerized by the constant humming of the florescent lights above her when Jean sat down, loudly, in the desk next to her. 

“Oh wow, you look awful.” Jean whispered, still too loudly. 

“At least both my eyes are equally bloodshot.” Jubilee replied without even glancing in Jean’s direction.   

“ _Touché_. And it also looks like you found your own clothes again.” Jean said, looking at Jubilee’s uniform. Today’s training session was starting with a lesson, so everyone was expected to wear their training gear to the classroom. Jubilee laughed a little at her own expense. “But really, though. Why are you so miserable now, when you seemed so upbeat last night?” Jean asked. 

“Heh, I was still a little drunk, that’s why!” Jubilee said, looking over the top of her sunglasses and smiling. 

Ororo walked into the classroom and sat in front of Jean. She turned to give Jean’s forearm a friendly shake. “You look better! Not completely back to normal, but better!” she said with a sunny grin. She looked at Jubilee and her smile fell. “You look much worse, somehow.” 

“Haha! That’s cuz I’m super hung over!” Jubilee said cheerfully. Ororo shook her head. “What? Might as well own it.” 

Scott walked in and took his place across from Jean. “Hi Scott!” Ororo and Jubilee managed to say in unison, before trying to stifle giggles. Jean shot them both a look that could kill, while Scott waved at them, confused. 

Kurt teleported directly into his desk in front of Jubilee and beside Ororo, and the loudness of it caused Jubilee to clutch her head and groan. “ _Guten Morgen!_ Oh, Jubilation, are you sick?” Ororo waved him closer so she could whisper in his ear, finishing by holding her finger to her lips to signify quiet. “Oooohh…Sorry.” he whispered, which Jubilee waved off, head still lowered. 

“Where’s Peter?” Scott asked, to no one in particular. 

“ _Please_  tell me he could still walk when you were done with him...” Ororo asked Jubilee quietly, looking at her side-on. Jubilee slapped her arm softly and shushed her. 

Raven walked through the door and stood at the front of the classroom. She was wearing a white tank-top and pants, or at least appeared to be. No one was really sure if she actually owned clothes, or if she just decided to sometimes look like she was wearing them. She stared down the group of X-Men with the same look of general disapproval she almost always had. 

“Okay, first of all, this is a full-sized classroom. There’s no reason you all have to be clumped together in the back. You’re not hamsters. Spread out.” She stood with her arms crossed and continued to stare as everyone picked up their bags and moved a seat or two away from each other. Once everyone was re-settled, she glanced back and forth over the classroom. “Also, one of you is missing.” 

As if on cue, a stiff breeze blew through the classroom, and Peter appeared in a chair in the back row with enough force to drive the desk back several inches. He tried his hardest to make this look casual. 

“Glad you could join us.” Raven said, not glad at all. 

“Me? I was here the whole time.” Peter said as he slouched into his chair. 

Raven lowered her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Ugh…So we’re off to a great start. Peter’s late and…” Raven squinted at the group of young people before her. “It looks like Jean’s got pinkeye, despite being an adult. And Jubilee is wearing sunglasses indoors for no reason.” Scott shrunk into his chair, while Ororo turned around to look at everyone who was in trouble. Kurt sat in quiet confusion. 

“It’s too bright in here!” Jubilee attempted to defend herself. 

“Off.” Raven replied. Jubilee took off her sunglasses with a huff. 

Jean raised her hand sheepishly. “It’s not pinkeye. It’s mascara-related.” 

Raven rolled her eyes and sighed. “What have I told you girls about wearing makeup to training sessions?” 

Jean raised her hand again “I’m not…” she started to argue, but Ororo turned around, pulled Jean’s hand back down, and shushed her. 

“Okay, great. So, today and for the next couple of days we are going to cover explosives…” Raven wrote the word ‘Explosives’ on the chalkboard and drew a bunch of lines emanating from it. “We’ll start off with common hand-held devices, grenades and the like. Then, we’ll move up to improvised explosives, mines, and so on. We’ll start each section with a sit-down lesson, and then move to the Danger Room for demos and exercises. Just like with firearms, except there’s more to cover, and generally less detail.” She paced the front of the classroom, while everyone scribbled notes. “This will take up the next week-and-a-half, maybe two weeks, when we factor in the Danger Room sessions where we assimilate all the previous lessons. Following this section, the Professor has said he wants to have a few shorter seminar-based lessons, probably crisis intervention or conflict deescalation, or something else with a lot of feelings and talking…” 

Most of the class groaned at that last statement, except Kurt who nodded and muttered “Nice.” to himself. 

“Dude, seriously? That sounds so boring!” Peter called out from behind him. 

“I’d much rather talk than explode.” Kurt pointed out. 

“How about we do neither…” Jubilee mumbled from the back of the room. 

“That’s enough from the peanut gallery.” Raven said sternly. “One important thing to note before we get started is that none of the devices we’re going to see in practice are toys. Some are inert, but some do have some explosive capability, similar to a gun that shoots blanks. Don’t treat anything like it’s harmless, or you or someone around you will pay for it later…” She paused to write the word ‘danger’ on the chalkboard. She turned to face the class and crossed her arms. “This means no holding things up to your face, no shoving things down someone’s pants as a joke-” 

“No one’s that stupid!” Scott said over the sound of his teammates snickering. 

“Sometimes I wonder…” Raven replied snarkily. “I’m just saying that if one of you gets maimed, or, I dunno, _castrated_ …don’t come crying to me.” She turned back to the chalkboard, but paused for a second, before adding “Go crying to Hank. That’s his job.” 

Raven took a second to revel in the visible discomfort she had caused (especially for the males), before erasing the two words she had written on the board. “Any questions? No? Okay, moving on…” 

******

 

Several hours of lecturing, four words written on the chalkboard, multiple explosive demonstrations, and one hectic Danger Room session (that inevitably devolved into fighting a bunch of robots) later, it was finally lunch time. Or at least everyone hoped it was. Raven appeared to have forgotten about lunch as a concept. 

“So anyway, that’s basically how to deal with flash-bangs in a combat setting. Again, I’m sorry that session just turned into fighting a bunch of stupid robots. Hank programmed a protocol with robots once and was really proud of it, so now when I tell him about our lessons and what we need from the Danger Room, his answer is always ‘Robots! Robots with guns! Robots with grenades! Do first-aid on robots!’and frankly I’m getting sick of it and I’m sure you all are too…” Raven rambled until she was interrupted by the sound of someone’s stomach growling unusually loudly. 

“Holy shit Ororo! Was that you?” Scott whispered. 

“What? I have really good soup for lunch and I can’t stop thinking about it!” Ororo whispered back in defense. 

“I can’t blame you. I’m basically starving.” Jubilee added. 

“Damn! I guess it’s lunch time, guys. I totally forgot.” Raven said, sounding somewhat apologetic.   

“Oh thank God…” Jean said desperately. The X-Men, save one, all practically dove into their bags to get their lunches.   

“Fuck! Were we supposed to _bring_  our lunches today?” Peter surveyed the room in a mild panic. 

“Yes. Raven’s only been saying that all week.” Ororo answered as she unpacked her thermos and spoon. 

Peter swore at himself under his breath. “You can have half of mine, Peter.” Kurt offered, showing off a sandwich that looked like it contained, among other things, sausage, mustard, and sauerkraut. 

“Kurt, you don’t live in a Communist shithole anymore. You aren’t obligated to share things.” Raven pointed out over a mouthful of cold pepperoni pizza. 

“Communists didn’t invent sharing.” Kurt muttered in a quiet, disgruntled tone. 

“Thanks for the offer, bro, but I got this covered.” Peter assured him, and rushed out of the room. He was back several seconds later with a package of Lucky Charms cereal, which he proceeded to start eating dry out of the box. 

Jubilee got up out of her seat and walked over to perch on the edge of Peter’s desk, PB and J sandwich in hand. “Can I have some?” she asked, head tilted towards him and legs swinging off the side of the desk. 

“Sure thing!” He tilted the box towards her, and then jerked it away at the last second. “Wait…” he said, before closing the box and shaking the hell out of it. He opened it and offered it back to her. “Try it now, all the marshmallows always sink to the bottom…” Jubilee shoved a fistful of cereal in her mouth and mumbled incoherently while nodding. 

Raven leaned against the desk and watched as everyone instinctively rearranged themselves. Scott took his ham-and-cheese sandwich over to Jean’s desk, where he sat backwards in the chair in front of her, so they could eat together. She mock-threatened him with her fork when he stole a cherry tomato out of her salad. Kurt perched, bird-like, on the edge of the desk in front of Ororo, so she could gleefully explain the contents of her soup. Peter and Jubilee had located the prize at the bottom of the cereal box, a temporary tattoo of a horseshoe, and negotiated among themselves where to put it. There was altogether too chummy for Raven’s liking.       

“Okay guys, I know I said it was lunch time, but that basically just means it’s eating time. I know you all normally eat lunch in some kinda group huddle, but we have a ton of material to cover, so you’re all gonna have to get back to your seats and eat quietly while I talk about fragmentation grenades…” Raven said authoritatively. She paced the front of the room, cold pizza in one hand and a (hopefully fake) grenade in the other. 

Everyone begrudgingly returned to their seats and pulled their notebooks back out. Raven continued to pace and ramble about grenades over mouthfuls of pizza, often making it hard to tell what she was saying. This continued on for some time, and was interrupted only when Raven apparently decided Kurt wasn’t paying attention and whipped the grenade she was holding at him. He apparently was paying some attention, because he batted it out of the air with his tail and back in her direction. She jumped out of it’s way and it hit the desk with a heavy thud. The other X-Men either gasped or snickered. 

“What the hell!” Raven demanded, hands on her hips. 

Kurt tried not to let his exasperation show. “I had to hit it furthest away from the largest group of people…” He panned his arm around, demonstrating the people around him. 

“Ugh, well that’s…” Raven started ranting, but stopped herself to think. “…Actually that’s good. That’s a good point. Write that down, people.” 

Peter had just finished writing ‘throw things at Raven’ in his notebook when he noticed Jubilee trying to get his attention discretely. 

“Psst…” she whispered. When she saw she had his attention, she added “Hey! ‘Charm’ me!” 

He smiled and leaned across his desk towards her, raising an eyebrow at her and propping his head up on one hand with his elbow on the desk. He was wracking his brain for something charming to say when her amused expression forced him to consider other possibilities. “…Wait. You’re talking about marshmallows, aren’t you?” he whispered, feeling a little stupid. 

She stifled a laugh and nodded. “Duh…you big dork.” He tried to act indignant as he fished a marshmallow out of the cereal box and tossed it at her. She caught it in her mouth expertly, and gave him a thumbs-up. 

“Something going on back there you wanna share with the class?” Raven called out, staring towards the back corner where Peter and Jubilee sat. Her arms were crossed and she was tapping her foot. Jubilee immediately looked straight ahead and tried her hardest to maintain a serious expression. 

“Yeah, sure! I have enough cereal to share with the class. Hands up, who wants Lucky Charms?” Peter replied, holding up the cereal box. Everyone turned to look at him, but no one volunteered. 

“Just…just knock it off…” Raven sighed before continuing with the lecture. 

******

 

After several more hours of lecture, three words written on the chalkboard, and even more explosive demonstrations, it was time for one last Danger Room session. This session was to assimilate all the concepts covered in the day’s lesson, and could also include skills and concepts from previous sessions. Raven had already gone into detail about the objectives of this exercise, and warned them about the increased complexity compared to previous sessions. 

The X-Men stood in anticipation, looking around the room as mechanical thumping and whirring echoed around them. They stood in a circular formation, in full uniform and with powers primed and ready. The anticipation built to a breaking point when the metal walls of the danger room finally folded away to reveal their foe. 

In walked the same stupid robots from the morning’s exercise. 

“Haha! You gotta be kidding me!” Peter laughed. Next to him, Jubilee struggled to not snicker out loud. Kurt and Jean looked at each other and shrugged. Ororo dropped her (previously electrified) arms to her sides and tipped her head back in frustration. 

Scott brought his hand up to his visor and sighed. “Okay, guys, lets beat up some dumb robots again.” he said, with as much authority as he could manage though his annoyance. 

“Jesus Christ. Nope! End simulation. END SIMULATION!” Raven yelled, and the robots fizzled out of existence. “Motherfucking…’scuse my French… Goddamn robots… I am going to HAVE WORDS with Hank about this. This is not the simulation we are supposed to do AT ALL…” she ranted angrily, as she pounded on the keys of a nearby console. “Here, let’s try this one…” she said, tapping on the console some more. 

The mechanisms of the room functioned loudly all around them, until a portion of the floor fell away. A platform supporting several of the same robots rose into view. 

“AAARRG! END SIMULATION!” Raven practically screamed, and the robots disappeared. The other X-men stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do but afraid to ask. Raven groaned and rubbed her hands down her face wearily. “Alright, so, obviously this isn’t the terrorist attack scenario we discussed.” she finally said, while rubbing her eyes. “And it doesn’t look like we’re gonna get that working today, so l just wanna make a few quick points, and then you guys can leave.”   

The X-Men tried, to various degrees of success, to hide their enthusiasm. 

“Okay, first point. Because we couldn’t cover everything we wanted today, we have to cover more tomorrow. It’s going to be really tight for time. That means everyone needs to be on time, have your lunches and all supplies with you, and expect to stay late. No excuses, no exceptions.” She finished by glaring at Peter, who tried to act casual. 

“Second point. I don’t care what you guys get up to when you’re not training. In fact, I think the lot of you could stand to get out more. But, _ ** **seriously****_. More than half of you look like walking zombies today. And contrary to popular belief, no amount of deodorant or perfume will cover the smell of cheap booze. So straighten up! I don’t feel like repeating the institute’s policy on underage drinking. And I _really_  don’t want a situation where we need to start having a curfew. So for Christ’s sake, sleep more, drink less, and take a goddamn multivitamin or something.” Raven rambled, becoming increasingly exasperated as she went. Kurt glanced around him, wondering why his teammates were looking at their feet. 

“Alright, got that? Third and final point. Jean, you still haven’t picked a code name. You need to do that soon.” 

Jean reeled back slightly at being singled out. “Why? I’d rather just be called Jean.” 

Raven sighed. “Look, I know you’re probably jealous that all the cool names got picked right away, but we can’t be out in the field, doing missions, calling out things like ‘Quicksilver go here, Storm do that’ and then be like ‘Jean do this.’ It just doesn’t work. Pick a code name. Everyone has one but you.” 

Jean folded her arms, undeterred. “We call Jubilee ‘Jubilee.’” 

Jubilee’s head perked up at the mention of her name. “Hey!” she snapped. 

“Jubilee is a short form of what is, no offense Jubilee, a _very_  uncommon name.” Raven pointed out. Jubilee shrugged. “It’s also a word in it’s own right. So unless you’re going to argue that Jean is short for something, or you’re going to start wearing a ton of denim, you gotta pick another name.”   

“It’s actually short for Jeaniffer.” Jubilee pipped in. 

Over the sound of her teammates laughing, Jean mumbled “I might have deserved that.” 

“Here’s an idea. If Jean has pink eye, why doesn’t she get to be Cyclops until it clears up?” Peter offered unhelpfully. 

Jean stared daggers at him and whispered “Fuck off Peter.” under her breath. 

“What about Scott, then?” Kurt asked seriously, not in on the joke. 

Scott put his head in his hands and groaned. Ororo looked around at her teammates. “Guys, the sooner we all shut up, the sooner we can all leave.” 

“Well, that’s easy!” Peter replied to Kurt, ignoring Ororo. “He’s got two eyes. He can be Biclops.” 

“For fuck’s sake, Peter...” Scott grumbled under his breath. Kurt tilted his head in confusion. 

Raven surveyed the scene before her, questioning whether to interrupt or let it play itself out. Finally, when the tension was more uncomfortable than exciting, she called the attention back to herself. 

“Regardless, you have until the end of the week to come up with something. If you can’t come up with anything, you can submit a list of ‘maybes’ and I’ll pick one. If you don’t come up with anything, I’ll just pick something for you.” Raven explained plainly. 

Jean sighed and tried not to look annoyed. “Fine.” 

Raven nodded. “Okay, good. Alright, X-Men, that’s it for today. You’re free to go. See you back here tomorrow, bright and early.”           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Love is a Battlefield" is, of course, by Pat Benatar and was released in 1983.  
> Also, the next few chapters are primarily of the 'X-Men hanging out and having fun and being friends' variety, so if my real life schedule permits me, I'll try to get them up in pretty quick succession.


	11. The Reflex (Why Don’t you Use It?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys hash it out in the locker room. The girls just go right to town on some spaghetti.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another of my 'hanging out and talking' chapters. There's also food.

“Everyone seems to be acting strangely today. Did I miss something while I was at church?” Kurt asked no one in particular. The guys had just hit the showers, and he clutched a towel at his waist with one hand while removing neatly folded clothes from his gym bag with the other. 

“Oh shit! That’s right! You missed everything!” Peter laughed. “You basically just came home and went to bed, didn’t you?” As per usual, Peter was just hanging out in a towel. 

“Well, not right away. I did some sewing, and then read for a while.” 

“Fascinating.” Peter said flatly. “No wonder you missed everything. All the fun stuff went down in the girl’s dorms.” Behind Kurt, Peter could see Scott glaring at him warily. Peter flashed Scott a grin and continued. “So first of all, the coolest thing that happened last night was that me and Jubes totally hooked up!” Peter raised his arms in celebration. In the background, Scott scoffed and shook his head. 

“That’s nice.” Kurt replied plainly, with a polite nod. 

“That’s it?” Peter questioned, lowering his arms. He looked disappointed. 

“It sounds like a fun evening.” Kurt reiterated. 

“Well, I mean, yeah…” Peter mumbled in confusion. He glanced over to Scott, who was doing his best to ignore Peter and get dressed. Peter’s confused expression grabbed Scott’s attention. 

“Try rephrasing it.” Scott suggested with a heavy sigh. 

“Oh! Okay.” Peter redirected his attention to Kurt. “So, like, in this context, when I say we ‘hooked up,’ it’s just another way of saying that we banged.” 

“ _Was_!?” Kurt reeled back in shock. 

“Yep.” Peter looked satisfied to finally get the reaction he was fishing for. 

“I did not even know you two were a couple!” Kurt stammered. He tightened his grip on his towel. 

“Uh, we’re not. I think the plan for now is that we’re just gonna fuck around if we’re bored…” Peter explained. Kurt eyed him skeptically, and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by Scott.   

“I don’t give a crap about what you guys get up to. All I wanna know is if that’s your excuse for not doing the goddamn dishes last night.” Scott said sternly, folding his arms. 

“Really?! You’re still caught up on the fucking dishes!” Peter cried through laughter. “I’ll do them later, don’t blow a gasket.” he added. 

“Well, Kurt and I already did them, so you’re welcome.” Scott snapped.   

Peter ignored Scott entirely and gave Kurt a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Aw, thanks, dude. You didn’t have to do that.” 

Kurt shrugged and smiled. “It’s no problem.” 

“Actually, Kurt, it is a problem. He keeps avoiding responsibility for dumb reasons, and other people have to pick up the slack.” Scott explained. He kept his arms crossed, and, even through the glasses, seemed to be staring at Peter the whole time he was talking to Kurt. 

“Dude! Can you honestly tell me that, given a choice, you would rather do housework than fuck?” Peter demanded. He put his hands on his hips and awaited an answer. 

“It’s not a choice! You can do both! Everyone else does both! Everyone on the planet!” Scott yelled, gesturing towards Peter angrily. Kurt, uncomfortable with the level of conflict in the room, moved away from being in between the other two and got dressed quietly. 

“Well, I dunno man. You should know it’s really rude to keep a lady waiting.” Peter pointed out, slightly smug. 

“She wouldn’t have to wait! You’re the fastest man on Earth! Why would she have to wait?” Scott yelled again, even more shrill than before.   

“Okay, now I can appreciate that you’ve never been in a situation like this…” Peter spoke down to Scott like he was explaining quantum physics to a four-year-old. “But when two people really hit it off, there’s usually a pretty strong sense of urgency.” 

“Yeah, I can imagine she was really excited for twenty seconds of sex and ten minutes of apologies.” Scott said flatly. 

Peter’s smug expression fell, and was replaced by one of wide-eyed embarrassment. “Who told you that? Did Jean tell you that?” 

Now it was Scott’s turn to be smug. He grinned and crossed his arms, leaning back slightly. “Oh? Did I hit a nerve?” 

“Did _you_ hit a nerve? Not likely, with your shitty aim, from what I’ve heard.” Peter shot back. They stared at each other, both too angry to back down, but too anxious of what the other might know to make the next move. It was like a Old-West-style showdown, but with shame instead of bullets. 

To the side, Kurt had finished getting dressed and was awkwardly watching the increasingly tense exchange. His gym bag was still located on the bench between the other two men, and he moved to gently retrieve it with his tail while drawing as little attention to himself as possible, so he could leave without being spoken too. When he managed to obtain his gym bag with minimal detection, he turned to walk out of the room, ducking his head and muttering “See you later.” quietly enough to avoid attention, but loud enough to not be rude.   

“Not so fast, Kurt! Hold up!” Peter reached out and grabbed Kurt’s upper arm and pulled/led him back towards the bench he and Scott were standing next to. “I never got a chance to tell you about the other _really interesting_  thing that happened lasted night…” Peter looked back and forth between Kurt and Scott as he spoke. 

“Peter. _Don’t._ ” Scott tried to sound authoritative, but it comes off as slightly pleading. 

“If this is something we’re going to yell about, why don’t you come tell me later, in private?” Kurt asks. He clutches his hands together, looking almost like he’s begging. “You could even get dressed first, _ja_?” 

“Nah, bro, I’ll just tell you now. It’ll only take a minute. It’s not like it’s a big secret, anyways. Literally everyone but you already knows.” Peter sat down on the bench and tugged Kurt’s arm downwards. “C’mon, dude, take a seat.” Kurt sat next to him hesitantly, glancing back and forth between Scott and Peter warily. 

“Peter…” Scott repeats.   

Peter looks at him and scoffs. He then leans into Kurt, cupping one hand around his ear so he could whisper the details of what he knows about Scott and Jean’s evening. His other arm is on Kurt’s  opposite shoulder, but it’s grip looks less chummy and more like he’s holding the younger man in place. Kurt resigns himself to reluctantly listening to Peter’s whispering, and Scott watched in horror as Kurt’s expression changed from annoyance at Peter’s manhandling to utter shock. As Peter made his way through his (highly embellished, second-hand) version of events, he became more animated, and started including as many lewd gestures as he could fit into the story. 

“...So anyway, that’s something to think about the next time Summers decides to lecture us about chores, responsibility, or being on time.” Peter finally summarized, folding his arms and waiting to see what kind of mayhem he’d caused. 

Kurt gawked at Scott, and his mouth hung open. His tail had developed an agitated twitch. “Scott, that’s… that’s so…” he stammered, “ _incredibly rude_!” he finally managed to spit out.   

“I didn’t do it on purpose! It was a mistake!” Scott attempted to defend himself. He had flushed red with embarrassment. He didn’t care at all about Peter’s opinion of him, but he hated the thought of Kurt thinking he was some kind of gross pervert. 

Peter threw his head back and laughed. “No, man…” he managed to gasp between laughter, “a ‘mistake’ is what Jean made when she decided that you, for whatever reason, deserved a blowjob…” He attempted to straighten himself up and pointed at Scott. “What _you_ demonstrated was _pure fucking incompetence_!” 

“It was an accident! It could happen to anybody!” Scott cried. It was no longer clear who he was trying to convince. 

“Ha! No, dude. Just you.” Peter replied coolly. He leaned forward and set his elbow on his knee. “I mean, basic etiquette is to, like, _warn a girl._ What do they teach you kids in Sex Ed nowadays?” 

Scott struggled to formulate a response. Kurt stood abruptly and hooked his gym bag over his shoulder. “I’m done listening to both of you. I’m leaving.” he said sharply, and turned towards the door. 

“Dude, calm down! I’m just teasing…” Peter called after him with a friendly chuckle. 

“ _Nein._ This is beyond teasing. Since we have been in this room, you have not stopped yelling at each other.” Kurt accused. “I can’t believe that yesterday you were both trying to give me advice, like ‘Kurt, you should date girls, it would be so fun’ and yet this is how you behave towards one another.” 

Peter and Scott glanced at each other and shrugged. “Well, I mean, it’s still true, though. Dating _is_  fun. No amount of Peter teasing me is going to make me want to be with Jean any less.” Scott explained. The mutual anger between Scott and Peter seemed to have quickly evaporated. 

“He’s right. We might give each other a hard time, but getting with a girl you like is just so, so, worth it.” Peter added. 

Scott nodded in agreement. “We just try to give you advice because we don’t want you to be left out.” 

“Yep. We worry about you, especially now that you’re the only one not getting any.” Peter said, employing his usual amount of tact. 

“Why would you worry about this? I don’t. I assumed this would be the case.” Kurt quickly rambled, embarrassed of the sudden attention on his personal life. “Besides, neither of you is in any position to give me advice on sex, since we’ve established this evening that you’re both terrible at it.” he spat. 

Peter gasped at the sudden outburst. “Okay that hurts…”    

“Well, like, not in general…” Scott attempted self-defence. 

Kurt rubbed his forehead and sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I think I’m just going to go eat something. I’m very hungry, and I think that might be making me agitated.”   

Scott nodded. “Don’t worry about it. Come to think of it, I’m hungry too.” He glanced between Peter and Kurt. “Is that what we’ve been doing? Acting like total dicks cuz we’re all hungry?” 

“Makes sense!” Peter agreed. “Wouldn’t be the first time! You guys want nachos? Like, a massive three-guy-sized pan of nachos?” He held his arms out wide to signify a truly epic chips-and-cheese feast. 

“Fuck yes.” Scott said immediately, while Kurt nodded enthusiastically in the background. 

“Sweet.” Peter threw his towel to the floor. “You guys go ahead. I’ll meet you in the kitchen in no time.” 

“Ugh. Okay.” Scott said, adverting his eyes and shaking his head. 

******

 

“Omigawd, I’m so glad we found this leftover spaghetti sauce…” Jubilee said out loud, to no one, with her mouth full of spaghetti. The girls, due to not yelling at each other in the locker room, made it to the kitchen well ahead of the boys. They even managed to find and prepare a container of leftover meaty pasta sauce and spaghetti. 

“I know. I was starving.” Jean agreed, while turning her fork in her own plate of spaghetti. 

“I have to say, Jubilee, I was surprised how not-awkward things are between you and Peter today.” Ororo said suddenly. 

Jubilee stopped chewing for a second and shrugged. “Why would it be awkward?” 

“Well, you guys did spend the night together, right?” Jean pressed on. 

“Well, yeah, but it’s not like he, I dunno, _came in my eye_  or anything like that.” Jubilee smirked at Jean. Jean stared back completely stone-faced and shook her head. Jubilee finished chewing her spaghetti and winked at Jean before continuing. “I mean, we’re friends that hang out and maybe fuck if we’re bored. No need to complicate things.” 

“Heh. A friend in need is a friend indeed.” Ororo mused to herself. 

“Ooh! That reminds me!” Jubilee said, and started digging into the pocket of her yellow jacket. “Here!” She tossed a plastic baggie of assorted small change onto the table. 

“What’s this?” Ororo asked, pointing at it with her fork. 

“It’s for the bet. It’s what I owe Jean.” Jubilee explained calmly. 

“YES! ****Fuckin’ knew it****!” Jean exclaimed, pumping her fist in the air. “I wish it wasn’t a bunch of unrolled nickels and dimes, but whatever. Money’s money!” Jean ripped the plastic baggie open and poured the small change onto the table, counting it gleefully. 

“Now I’m _really_ impressed that things between you and Peter aren’t awkward…” Ororo said, sounding a touch sympathetic. 

Jubilee held her index finger up to Ororo. “Wait for it…” she said, as she watched Jean count money. 

“What the hell! This is only five dollars! You’re holding out on me!” Jean accused, as she glared at Jubilee across the table. 

“Maybe it was for one of the other bets?” Ororo suggested. 

“Nope. It was for mine and Peter’s. I’m not paying the full ten bucks because I identified a loophole.” Jubilee explained confidently, leaning back in her chair. 

“Nah-uh. We said nothing about loopholes. Ten bucks or nothing.” Jean crossed her arms authoritatively. 

“Maybe, being a neutral party, I could hear Jubilee’s reasoning and settle this argument peacefully?” Ororo offered. She set down her fork and laced her hands together on the table. 

“Sure!” Jubilee agreed quickly. 

“Fine.” Jean said begrudgingly, crossing her arms. 

“Good. So, Jubilee, you just need to explain to me how you technically lost the bet, but in a way that you think qualifies you to not have to pay the full amount.” Ororo explained with the seriousness and professionalism of a judge. 

“Sure thing. So basically, the first time we banged, sure, it was over ****annoyingly****  fast. But when I explained that, like, _that’s not gonna cut it_ , he comes out with ‘Oh! Turns out I don’t have a refractory period! I can fuck all night if you want!’ cuz of his mutation. So the second time we went at it, he _more than made up for it._ ”   

“And a ‘refractory period’ is…” Ororo asked, trailing off. 

“Oh! Right, sorry. We covered this in Anatomy class, which was before you got here.” Jubilee began, “So you know when a guy gets off, he can’t usually get it up again for a period of time? So if you haven’t finished yet, you’re basically on your own?” 

“It’s that dumb ‘roll over and go to sleep after sex’ reflex that guys have.” Jean added. 

“Goddess, that has a name? Science has a name for everything!” Ororo smiled. “You learn something new every day!” 

“...Back to the task at hand…” Jean redirected. 

“Oh. Of course.” Ororo said with a nod. She leaned back in her chair, looking upwards with her hand on her chin, deep in thought. “So essentially, the bet was that Peter’s speed would make him an unsatisfactory lover. And it would appear that that could easily be the case.” 

“Ha.” Jean said. Jubilee shushed her. 

“I’m not done.” Ororo said plainly, and continued. “Now, what Jubilee has described is an interesting  phenomenon. And by her account, it allows Peter to easily overcome any sexual disadvantage caused by his mutation, to the extent that it likely offers an advantage over regular men. So, in conclusion, I accept Jubilee’s argument and agree that five dollars is fair.” 

“Yaay!” Jubilee cheered. 

“Goddammit.” Jean huffed. 

“Don’t feel bad, Jean. Peter was explaining to me that apparently Kurt’s _not_  a huge slut, so that’s five bucks you may actually end up getting.” Jubilee said, reaching across the table to pat Jean’s arm. 

“Well there’s a shock. Pretty sure no one thought that but you.” Jean pointed out. “You may as well just give me that five bucks now.” 

“Ah-ah. Not so fast. As per our agreement, he doesn’t actually have to be a huge slut. He just has to have _some_  sexual experience in order for me to win. So I’m not paying out unless we can confirm he’s basically a virgin.” 

“Hmm. Ball’s in your court, ‘Ro.” Jean said plainly before digging back into her spaghetti. 

“Stop putting things in my ‘court’!” Ororo pleaded.   

“Stop putting snails in my boyfriend’s room!” Jean shot back. 

“What the fuck?” Jubilee mumbled over a mouthful of pasta. 

“Oh! That was mostly Kurt’s idea. Do you not like them?” Ororo asked pleasantly.   

“ _What the fuck_?” Jubilee whispered into her fork. 

“Then why did it have both your names on the card? And in your writing?” Jean pressed on. 

“Well, Kurt had the idea, and found the snails. I wrote the card, and we set up the terrarium together.” Ororo explained with a smile and a sweep of her hand. 

“Terrarium? You mean the rinsed-out mayo jar?” Jean asked, crossing her arms. 

“What…the…fuck?” Jubilee repeated, unheard. 

“Terrarium.” Ororo corrected. 

“Anyway, it’s gross, and you’re gross, and Kurt’s gross, and now Scott’s gross cuz he freakin’ loves them.” Jean rambled. 

“Good. I’m glad!” Ororo beamed. 

“Great. Now you and Kurt better hurry up and bang cuz you’re both gross and frankly at this point I think you deserve each other.” Jean said unenthusiastically. 

“Now that part I understood.” Jubilee pointed to the center of the table with her fork. 

“I’m trying! I may have made some headway last night.” Ororo said hopefully. “I think he might be starting to understand that I’ve been flirting with him.” 

“Good. So he doesn’t have brain damage.” Jean said flatly. 

“Whatcha do different?” Jubilee asked. 

“Well, I went to his room to drop off the spider plant. We chatted for a bit. He talked about the circus, and about my book. I, uh…” Ororo trailed off, slightly embarrassed. “I kind of got in his bed and refused to leave until he kicked me out so he could go to church.” 

Jubilee started giggling uncontrollably. “Nice! Cockblocked by the Lord!” 

“Haha! Wow.” Jean reeled back, laughing. “I can’t even picture this. Did he have to drag you out by your feet?” 

“It’s not as bad as you’re imagining. You see, he sleeps in a hammock, up near the ceiling, so once he set me in there, I was kind of stuck.” Ororo explained, trying to defend her reputation. “So when he said he had to leave, I suggested I just stay until he got back. I think he liked the idea, but politely declined.” 

“So how did you get out, then? And on that note, how did you get in?” Jubilee asked. 

“He was already in the hammock. He picked me up and set me in it. To get out, I rolled out and he caught me.” Ororo acted out the process with hand motions as she explained. 

“So did you say anything to him? Like ‘Hey let’s go out sometime?’ or ‘I like you’ or ‘Wanna touch my boobs? I hate bras.’ or anything that would make it clear to him that you’ve been hitting on him?” Jean quizzed, twirling her fork in her remaining noodles idly. 

“No. Nothing like that.” Ororo shook her head. 

“Okay. So when I tell you you need to be direct, you try to make a nest in his bed. When I say you need to be direct _with words_ , you basically say ‘No I’m going to continue to speak in code.’” Jean said in frustration. 

“I mean, ‘Ro, take it from me, because apparently I’m a lot better at this than you…” Jubilee said, putting her hand on Ororo’s arm. Ororo raised an eyebrow at her. “So, sometimes, with a guy, you just gotta say ‘Hey, let’s bang!’ cuz they’re simple creatures. And at the end of the day, although a long, drawn-out seduction sounds nice on paper, it’s not nearly as efficient as a simple ‘Hey, let’s bang.’” 

“I’m not trying to direct pornography!” Ororo cried in frustration. “It’s only been a couple of days! A little tact and subtlety goes a long way. Maybe not with men like Peter, but with most men.” 

“Whatever. Ignore my advice if you feel like it. I’m the only one here getting what they want.” Jubilee pointed out smugly. 

“That’s not true! I get what I want!” Jean interjected. 

“As if. May I remind you that last night, I got exactly what I set out to get, while you tried to suck a dick and got partially blinded.” Jubilee said, pointing at Jean’s eye with her fork. 

“I can see fine, by the way. And it’s still better than the big fat nothin’ that ‘Ro gets…” Jean shot back In self-defense. 

“Debatable. I’ll let you know if I end up requiring protective eyewear.” Ororo said, glancing to Jean with a smirk. 

At that moment, footsteps could be hear approaching the dining room. Peter, followed by Scott and then Kurt walked into view. Peter started to raise his hand in a friendly wave, but something caught his attention and he stopped in his tracks so abruptly that Scott walked into him. 

“Oh, not fair! The girls have spaghetti!” he said, ignoring Scott stumbling and swearing behind him. 

“No! Screw off! This is ours!” Jubilee exclaimed, spreading her arms defensively around the spaghetti. 

“Sharing _ist_ caring, _ja_?” Kurt suggested politely, as he leaned around the door frame. 

“Get out of here with your Communist propaganda!” Jean cried, brandishing her fork like a dagger. 

“This is not communal spaghetti. We didn’t make enough to share.” Ororo explained calmly with her hands clasped. 

“We’re making nachos, guys. Let’s go make nachos.” Scott said with a frustrated sigh, as he tried to corral the other two guys into the kitchen. 

“Right! We’ll make nachos, and then they’ll be jealous!” Peter said, closing his hands into fists. “Hey! We should make some garlic bread, then they’d be REALLY jealous!” he rambled to himself. 

“You should make garlic bread, and then we’d have garlic bread!” Ororo called after him. 

Jean shook her head at the loud clanging sounds that immediately started coming from the kitchen. Jubilee started to eat her spaghetti faster, apparently afraid someone might steal it. No more than a minute passed until Peter appeared suddenly in between Ororo and Jubilee’s chairs, accompanied by a stiff breeze. He braced his hands on the back of both their chairs and fidgeted by picking himself off his feet and swinging his legs around. 

“Hey, what’s up now? What’s going on, what’s happening?” he rambled quickly, surveying the table. 

“Oh, we were actually just having a discussion.” Ororo explained. “I was wondering about your goggles. Where did you get them? You see, I have a friend who might find them very helpful in the future…” 

“Fuck you.” Jean whispered. 

“Oh, these?” Peter set himself down so he could put his goggles on. “Yeah, they’re super handy! Custom-made, though. But I can show you where I keep my spare set, for safety reasons…” Jubilee tried to stifle a laugh. 

“That would be very helpful. Safety is important.” Ororo said politely, but with a devilish smirk. 

“Fuck all of you.” Jean muttered into her spaghetti. 

Peter ignored her, and went back to fidgeting on the back of the chairs. “So what do three lovely ladies have on the schedule for a Sunday night?” 

“Not much. Probably trying to go to bed early so we all don’t get yelled at again.” Jubilee said with a bored shrug. “Do the other guys not want your help with dinner?” 

“Pfft. I’m on green-onion-and-tomatoes chopping duty. Because _of course_  anything that Summers oversees has strictly defined roles and responsibilities.” Peter replied. He and Jubilee laughed briefly until he cringed at himself and glanced at Jean. “ Uh, no offence Jean.” 

Jean shrugged. “Meh. He does like to delegate.” 

“So anyway, that’ll take me, like, half a second so I don’t even have to start until the rest of the stuff is done.” he explained with a nod. 

From the kitchen, more clanging could be heard, followed by Scott yelling “Peter! Get in here!” 

Jubilee stifled a laugh while Ororo raised an eye brow at Peter. He set himself back down on the floor and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Heh, sometimes they do miss me, though…” he said with a smirk and zoomed back to the kitchen. 

******

 

Peter quickly reappeared in the kitchen. Kurt was cooking ground beef, while Scott was carefully arranging corn chips on a pan with intense concentration. Peter stared at Scott with his hands still in his pockets. “Yeah?” 

“I need you to shred cheese.” Scott said plainly, without looking up from his corn chip arrangement. 

“I thought you were going to do that.” Peter replied. 

“I was, but then I realized that to make sure that all the chips have decent cheese coverage, I need to layer cheese and chips, which means I need a bunch of shredded cheese by the time I’m done with this layer.” Scott explained. 

“You might be over-thinking this.” Peter suggested, with his hands still in his pockets. 

“I told him that already.” Kurt said to Peter, glancing over his shoulder. 

“Nope. This is the best way to not to have a pile of bland, naked chips at the bottom of the nacho heap. So, Peter, you shred cheese.” Scott instructed. “And Kurt, tell Peter what you told me.” 

“ _Nein_! He’ll just tease me. And you already teased me, so that’s enough for tonight.” Kurt begged. 

“Ha! What’s this about, then?” Peter perked up. He moved to the counter and started looking for the grater. 

“I’m putting the whole seasoning packet in the beef.” Kurt stated, without looking away from the frying pan. 

“No, that’ll make it too spicy. Use, like, half a packet. And don’t change the subject.” Scott said over his shoulder. 

“No, you big baby!” Peter glowered at Scott. He glanced over to Kurt. “Use the whole packet, Kurt. Heck, use two.” 

“I already put the whole packet in, sorry.” Kurt muttered. 

“Okay, fine. I guess I’ll just have heartburn later.” Scott shrugged. “And don’t change the subject.” he repeated. 

“Scott, you’re not even twenty. Why in the hell do you get heartburn?” Peter asked, his head tilted towards Scott.   

Scott shrugged and mumbled a vague “Dunno…” before turning back to Kurt. “Now, Kurt, you were saying…?” 

Kurt ducked his head low and groaned in exasperation. “Alright, fine…” he mumbled. “Before I went to church last night, Ororo came to drop off my spider plant. We chatted for a few minutes before I left for church.” 

Peter looked between Scott and Kurt, puzzled. “That’s not funny. That’s not even interesting.” he put his head down and was able to almost-instantly grate a huge amount of cheese. 

“That’s because he purposefully left out the interesting part.” Scott explained. Kurt didn’t even have to look in order to tell that, through the glasses, Scott was staring at him. 

“It’s just…I don’t see what the big deal is? She hadn’t been in a hammock before, and I guess she liked it? They are comfortable.” Kurt stammered. He tried to distract himself by smashing the ground beef into smaller and smaller pieces. 

Peter looked at Scott and shrugged, confused. Scott chuckled while evenly spreading cheese over carefully-arranged chips. “So, essentially, Ororo went to visit Kurt, and __j_ ust had_ to test out this hammock of his. Once they were in it - together, I might add- she decided she liked it and was _very reluctant_ to leave. Even though he said he had to get changed for church.” Scott explained with a smile while Kurt tried to disappear in the steam from his frying pan. “The best part is that _this idiot_ …”  Scott punctuated by pointing at Kurt with a corn chip in hand, “kicked her out into the hallway so he wouldn’t be late to church.” 

“I was polite about it.” Kurt mumbled. 

Peter sighed and shook his head. “Y’know, Kurt, sometimes, if people asked me about you, I’d tell them that you’re kinda smart. Like, a little bright.” he explained carefully. “But then you do shit like this and I realize you’re one of the dumbest people I’ve ever met.” Kurt could be seen to straighten his posture, but said nothing. “I mean…” Peter continued, “would it have been so hard to just go to church today, or go twice next week, or something like that?” 

“Yes. We had training today. And now that we train later in the evening, I can’t just go twice next week. It’s also frowned upon.” Kurt explained. 

“You could have offered to let her chill out in your room while you were gone, if she was that comfortable. That was what she wanted to do, wasn’t it?” Scott asked. He carefully arranged the second layer of corn chips over the base layer. 

“I’m sure she was just joking. I mean, she said she had reading to do, and she was essentially ready for bed. She had her bra off and everything.” Kurt rambled, trying to defend himself. 

“WHAT?!? How the fuck do you know that?” Scott spun around, knocking a couple corn chips on the floor. 

“I picked her up by putting my hands here…” Kurt indicated a space across his own mid-chest region. “It was obvious.” 

“So a hot, bra-less woman gets into bed with you and basically wants to stay the night, and you’re just like ‘Time for church, see ya!’” Scott ranted, waving mockingly. 

“Scott, you have no sisters so you don’t know this. Women take their bras off to get comfortable, not to seduce every man they meet.” Kurt explained. 

“He’s actually right, you know.” Peter said to Scott. “Chicks basically fantasize about taking their bras off all day, they hate them. They don’t even have to take their shirts off, they just pull the whole bra out through their armpit somehow…” 

“ _Ja_ , my sister would do the same thing! I have no idea, to this day, how it worked.” Kurt said enthusiastically. 

“Really? Cuz I just figured it was like, you know in movies and stuff, if a girl says she’s not wearing panties or something, the guy knows he’s getting some…” Scott said. 

“Well, maybe sometimes. Maybe even in this case. But in general, it’s like a comfort or laziness thing.” Peter replied. 

“Like you and underwear?” Scott said. Peter shrugged and nodded. 

“See? You’re both over-thinking it. She just came over to drop off my plant, and hadn’t been in a hammock before. Hammocks are fun. Anyone would like to be in one.” Kurt pointed out. 

“Actually, no, dude.” Peter said, as he pulled veggies out of the fridge. “I, for example, don’t really want to get in your hammock. Do you know why that is? I think you should write this down, because this is the part I don’t think you understand.” Peter set down the veggies and the knife he was holding and walked up to Kurt. “ _ ** **I****  _don’t want in your hammock because _ ** **I****  _don’t want to have sex with you.” 

Kurt sighed in exasperation and his shoulders fell. He narrowed his eyes at Peter for an inordinate amount of time, before suddenly reaching across the stove to turn off the burner. “The beef is finished cooking. Are the nachos almost ready to go in the oven?” 

Peter threw up his hands and moved back to the counter to chop green onions. Scott sighed, just as he put the finishing touches on his carefully-arranged nacho masterpiece. “Yeah, I guess…” Kurt moved aside so Scott could put the nachos in the oven and set the timer. He turned to face Kurt, who had backed into a wall. “I mean, maybe dating’s not your scene, but think about this: Haven’t you ever wanted to have a girlfriend?” 

Kurt’s eyes darted around the room, before settling away and downwards. He pressed further into the wall. “Maybe? I guess…it’s just…I don’t know if I’d make a very good boyfriend.” 

Scott did a noncommittal shrug. “Well, can’t know til you try…” 

Kurt scoffed and rolled his head to the side, before sighing and looking back down at Scott. “Of course _you_ would think this should be simple. But if you’re wrong, and I try anything with Ororo, then she’ll always think that anytime I’m nice to her, for as long as we know each other, that I’m trying to sleep with her. We work together for hours every day. It’s not fair for me to make things awkward.” 

Scott screwed his face up, unsure if he should be confused or insulted, and leaned back from Kurt. “ _What do you mean_  I think things ‘should be simple’?” 

“He means you waltzed in here and _literally_  started dating the first girl you ran in to!” Peter all-but-yelled from across the kitchen. 

“Huh. I did, didn’t I?” Scott mumbled, lost in self-reflection. 

“Shit yeah, you did. You totally won the girl lottery.” Peter called over, still too loud. “She’s both conveniently located and tolerates you.” He paused, then added, “She also didn’t break up with you after the whole ‘eyeball’ thing, so I’d say you’ve got it pretty good.” 

Scott smiled wistfully and nodded to himself. Kurt, still awkwardly standing between Scott and a wall, looked around and picked at the sleeve of his shirt absently. When he attempted to side-step and give Scott and the wall some alone time, Scott noticed him and re-directed his attention towards him. “Anyway, what I’m saying is: who cares if it’s a little awkward? Life’s awkward. Do you think Peter and Jubes stopped to think ‘Oh, what if this makes things awkward?’ when they hooked up?” 

“I don’t think they were thinking much of anything.” Kurt said flatly. 

“That’s true! We weren’t!” Peter yelled gleefully across the kitchen again. 

Scott tipped his hand towards Peter in acknowledgement. “See? Besides. We're telling you your chance of rejection at this point is essentially zero. She’s been throwing herself at you, physically, and you guys already do a bunch of weird old-married-couple shit together- gardening and book clubs and…snail wrangling? Thanks, by the way.” 

“ _Gern geschehen_. I’m glad you like them.” Kurt smiled warmly.   

“They’re neat! Kinda slow and slimy, but neat.” Scott said enthusiastically. “So as I was saying- you can always try to minimize awkwardness by starting slow. Try holding her hand or telling her she’s pretty or something, see how she reacts. That way, if she’s not into it, it’s not as awkward, but if she is, you can go from there.” he explained as helpfully as possible. 

Kurt nodded thoughtfully, and then furrowed his brow. He leaned down closer to Scott and practically whispered “But what if she wants sex?” 

“Then give it to her!” Peter yelled again. “Figure it out!” 

Kurt frowned and Scott threw his arms up in exasperation. “We gotta stop yelling this shit in the kitchen. The girls are gonna hear us.” 

The timer on the oven went off. “Don’t matter! Nachos are done!” Peter yelled, even louder. They put the finishing touches on the nachos, collected up the various condiments and utensils, and headed back to the dining room.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title comes from the Duran Duran song 'The Reflex," released in 1984. The chorus also includes the lyric 'Try not to bruise it,' which I opted not to include, but is just generally good advice.


	12. Smooth Operator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men share embarrassing stories and nachos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The X-Men are all a bunch of dweebs and none of them have any game whatsoever. Some descriptions of (relatively minor) blood and violence in this chapter.

The boys returned to the dining room with their food, settling further down the table than the girls. As they arranged their plates and toppings, Jubilee could be heard to mutter “Holy shit that’s a lot of nachos.” under her breath. Peter exercised his usual amount of self-restraint, and started stuffing his face almost immediately. 

“Wow.” he mumbled with his mouth full. “Yeah, this is definitely why I was a dick earlier.” 

“You were a dick about nachos?” Jean asked, confused. 

“Well, kinda. Kurt was saying how being hungry makes people into huge assholes, and now I can clearly see how that was the case.” Peter explained, waving a salsa-covered chip around as he spoke. 

“I actually said ‘agitated.’ Hunger makes people ‘agitated.’” Kurt pointed out, unheard. 

“I’m actually thinking hunger might be the root cause of all my personality flaws.” Peter continued. “I mean, since I’ve had food in my hand, I haven’t joked about Summers at all, _and_  I’m hilarious and have a captive audience.” 

“It’d be best if you could keep it that way.” Scott said quietly to Peter as he carefully applied sour cream to his chip. 

“I dunno. We’ve all eaten a ton of spaghetti, and we’ve done nothing but rip on Jean all night.” Jubilee pointed out. Jean rolled her eyes dramatically and leaned her head over the back of the chair with a weary sigh. 

“Yes. And now she’s mad at us and keeps looking at us cock-eyed.” Ororo added, in complete seriousness. 

“Ooooooh! ” Peter yelled before he and Jubilee started laughing hysterically. Kurt nearly choked on his food. Scott rubbed his forehead and groaned wearily, and Ororo finally cracked a smile at the scene she had caused, mainly because she couldn’t see Jean’s murderous glare. 

When the ruckus died down and Peter could finally breathe again, he glanced around at his friends and something almost like guilt crossed his face. “Well, I guess, really, we shouldn’t make fun.” he started, unusually restrained. “I mean, I’m sure all of us have some kinda super-embarrassing story about dating or hooking up or that kinda stuff. Happens to everyone.” 

Around the table, most could be seen to either shrug or nod calmly, except Jubilee who thrust her hand in the air and cried “Ooh! Ooh! Are we _sharing_ embarrassing stories? Cuz I have one!” 

Jean motioned towards the center of the table. “The floor’s yours, Jubes.” 

“Oh! Great!” Jubilee moved down a few chairs, so she was closer to the center of the group, and beside Peter. And his nachos. “Okay, so it’s ninth grade. First big Co-Ed birthday party. We’re playing spin-the-bottle.” she explains dramatically, moving her hands over the surface of the table, trying to evoke the circle of teens and the bottle in the center. “So it’s my turn, and I spin it… and it lands on this guy, Mark, who I thought was super cute. He kinda looked like Scott Baio, but with braces.” 

“Ew.” Jean said under her breath. 

“Who?” Ororo inquired. Jean leaned towards her and promised to explain later. 

“Whatever. I was into it.” Jubilee continued with a wave of her hand. “So, anyway, I’m all excited, and all the girls are whispering about me already, cuz they’re jealous. So I get up to move over to him, and I kinda just walk on my knees, cuz we’re all sitting.” She reaches over and takes a nacho chip and bites into it. Peter opens his mouth to protest, but wisely keeps silent. “But just as I get right in front of him, my knee kinda skids off the fabric of my skirt, and I fall forward, so instead of kissing him, I just smash his face with my face!” 

Jubilee leaned back with her arms behind her head and watched everyone either cringe in their chair or laugh. When the reaction had died down, she continued “He ended up putting his tooth through his lip and bled all over the place! The worst part, though, was that because he had braces, the inside of his mouth looked like fucking raw hamburger or something. I was fine, by the way.” 

“Ugh! Nasty!” Jean cringed. 

“At least you showed your dominance over the other girls.” Scott pointed out. “Like, ‘Oh, think this guy’s cute? BAM! Not so cute now.’” he said, punching the air for extra effect. 

“Y’know, I never thought of it that way.” Jubilee said. 

“What is ‘spin-the-bottle’?” Kurt asked sheepishly. 

“It’s like, a bunch of people sit in a circle and spin an empty bottle, and the person who spun it has to kiss whoever the bottle is pointing at.” Scott explained. Kurt nods, but seems concerned by this information. 

“We’ll all get drunk sometime and play it.” Peter offered. 

“No we absolutely will not.” Jean said quickly. Ororo gave her shoulder a small shove. 

“So on that note…” Peter said, a little louder, “Thank you, Jubes, for your story, but I think I can actually beat it.” 

“I wasn’t aware that we were competing.” she said with a smirk. She helped herself to another chip. 

“Oh, everything’s a competition, if I think I can win…” he replied. “So this was a while ago. I was still in high school. I was flunking out of History, but Mom still thought I had a chance, so she hired a girl a grade ahead of me to tutor me.” 

“It must have been hard to do homework on parchment, with an abacus…” Scott joked. 

“Ha. Fuck you. Anyway, this girl was, like, _smoking hot_  and because history is boring as fuck, we ended up making out instead of studying most of the time. And Mom kept paying her cuz she didn’t know any different.”   

“...Technically making it a form of prostitution.” Ororo pointed out. 

Peter shrugged. “Maybe a little bit. In retrospect. Anyway, this one time she came over, and things were getting pretty hot. She had, like, her blouse unbuttoned and her boobs out of her bra. It was basically the best thing that ever happened to me up until that point in my life.” 

“We’re all very happy for you.” Jubilee joked. 

“Hey! That’s not it. I’m getting to the good part. So, long story short, things were heating up and I figured I’d take my shirt off, but when I tried to do that, I accidentally elbowed her in the nose.” Peter thrust his elbow into the center of the table for emphasis. 

Jubilee booed and gave two thumbs down. Scott groaned and laughed, while Kurt shook his head. 

“Yes, yes, I know. I suck.” Peter said with his arms crossed, as he waited for the teasing to stop. “So, obviously I feel like a jackass and start apologizing a ton. She, like, waves it off. Says it didn’t hurt, no big deal. So I think ‘Great! Back at it!’ for like two seconds, until a _torrent_  of blood starts _pouring_ out her nose. Like, _completely gushing_. Never seen anything like it!” Peter flailed his hands around his face, and chest in demonstration. 

“That is simply disgusting.” Ororo stated with a flick of her hand. However, it wasn’t so disgusting that it deterred her from moving a few chairs closer to Peter to hear his story better. By pure coincidence, this also placed her next to Kurt. He promptly pulled his nacho plate into the space between them, so she could grab a snack without reaching over him. 

“It was beyond gross. It was like something out of a cheap horror movie.” Peter nodded quickly. “There was blood all down her face, in her lap, all over her tits, on my face, on the bedspread, everywhere!. It was fucking ****everywhere****! So she’s freaking out, and I’m freaking out, so Mom comes in the room and is basically like ‘ _What the fuck?_ ’ because up until this point, she thought we were studying, and now there’s a blood-covered chick with her boobs out.” 

“I think, at this point, I’d actually rather just be dead.” Jean pointed out. 

“Yep, definitely. That would have been preferable.” Peter agreed. “So, in what was actually one of Mom’s finer moments, she got the girl a dish towel and got her to calm down a little. So she was actually able to explain that she gets really bad nose bleeds from time to time, has for years, and that if it doesn’t stop on it’s own, she actually needs to go to a hospital to get it cauterized.” 

Scott glanced at Ororo and Kurt, who were looking at each other in confusion. “’Cauterized’ means ‘burned.’ Like, ‘medically burned.’” he explained. They nodded and thanked him, until the meaning actually sank in and they both cringed. 

“So, the icing on the cake was that she had to go to the doctor to get that vein burned or whatever, but Mom was, like, five whiskys deep so she couldn’t drive, and I had no license, so she had to call her dad to come get her. I don’t think he was too impressed.” 

“This is just a clusterfuck from start to finish.” Jubilee stated, shaking her head solemnly. 

“You’re not kidding. Needless to say, she ****did not****  came back, and I ** **did not****  pass History, and I dropped out the next semester.” Peter leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. 

“Why not just take her to the hospital yourself, with your powers?” Scott asked, before cramming an entire chip in his mouth. 

Peter’s jaw dropped open and he immediately dropped his head into his hands. “AARG! Jesus Christ! Why didn’t I think of that!?” he shouted at himself. “…instead of sitting there like a ****fucking tool****!” 

Jean reached over and patted Peter’s back. “There, there. Hindsight’s twenty-twenty.” she said. It only sounded a little patronizing. 

Jubilee joined in, rubbing his shoulder. “Besides, I’m sure she’s in a better place now.” 

Peter’s head snapped up and he glared at Jubilee quizzically. “What the hell? She didn’t _die_! I ran into her a couple years ago, she’s, like, married with two kids- works at a bank!” 

Jubilee nodded. “Yep. I’m sure she’d agree that’s a pretty big improvement over your childhood bedroom.” Peter scowled while everyone else laughed. 

Ororo cleared her throat after the laughter died down. “Now, I don’t think I can beat those stories, but if anyone is interested, I think I’d like to contribute.” She laced her hands together and placed them on the table in front of her. “My story’s not nearly as…colorful? I guess.” 

“Good.” Scott said. “All this talk about there being blood everywhere is starting to make me squeamish.” 

“No blood in this story, I guarantee it.” Ororo assured him. “So, I was visiting a young man I had been seeing. He was laying on a couch watching television. I had gone to the kitchen to find a snack. On my way back, I decided to try and be romantic or spontaneous.” 

“By also getting him a snack?” Kurt asked innocently. 

“Ugh, please.” Ororo scoffed. She took a nacho off his plate. “You can’t just feed a man, or else you will never get rid of him” 

“Noted.” Jubilee said, quickly pointing at Ororo. 

“I walked up behind the couch. I wanted to hop over the back of the couch, so I would land in his lap and surprise him. I thought that would be cute.” Ororo explained calmly. “But what actually happened when I jumped over the couch was that I kneed him in the testicles- so hard that he rolled off the couch, vomited, and cried for twenty minutes.” 

“OOooooooh! Shit!” Jubilee squealed. Jean threw back her head and laughed maniacally and clapped. Kurt shrank into his chair, with his hands over his mouth, his knees pulled up to his chest, and his tail wrapped around his knees. Peter frowned, uncharacteristically silent and possibly a few shades paler. 

“I liked the other stories better!” Scott protested. Ororo smiled, shrugged, and calmly ate another chip. 

“’Ro…” Peter started, deadly serious and with his palms pressed together. “What happened to the guy? Did he die? End up as a eunuch?” 

“Oh! No. Not at that time, anyway.” Ororo explained hastily. “After I established that there was nothing I could do to help him, I went home. He showed up at my door the next day, begging and pleading with me to continue seeing him. I politely declined.” 

“Holy shit.” Peter muttered under his breath. 

Jean clapped and shook her head in awe. “Nicely done. Nicely fucking done.” 

“That’s not even an embarrassing story. That’s the story of you being a fucking boss bitch.” Jubilee pointed out.    

“Oh, trust me. I was very embarrassed about it at the time. That’s the main reason why I couldn’t keep seeing him. Because I’d keep having to relive it every time we were together.” Ororo explained sincerely. 

“That, and his junk was probably wrecked, so that’s no fun.” Scott added. 

“I’m sure he was fine! He dated other women after me. And he kept hitting on me every time we met. Men are much more resilient than they think.” Ororo said, matter-of-factly. 

“Nope. If anything, much less resilient.” Peter insisted, shaking his head vigorously. 

Meanwhile, Kurt had managed to unfold himself and added more nachos to the plate between him and Ororo. “My favorite thing about these stories is how none of you have any control over your own body parts.” he pointed out, with a smirk. 

“Well, that’s just…that’s just how love works, man…” Peter rambled. 

“Yes. Plus, that’s pretty rich coming from you, Mister ‘I don’t know what my tail is doing half the time.’” Ororo added, glancing at him side-on. She propped her head up with her elbow on the table. 

Kurt briefly looked embarrassed, then quickly moved his tail to slide the plate of nachos closer to him. “I know exactly where it is. It’s taking my nachos back.” he said. He crossed his arms in satisfaction that he’d made his point. 

“Is that so? It wasn’t wrapped around my ankle until a second ago?” Ororo asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“ _Nein_. Must have been someone else.” he insisted. 

“Someone else’s tail?” 

“ _Ja_. Possibly the dog.” 

“That dog doesn’t have a tail. It just has a weird lump.” 

“Speaking of which, it’s your turn, Kurt.” Scott interjected, pointing at Kurt with a nacho in hand. 

“My turn to what?” Kurt asked, confused. He then used his tail to slide his plate back towards Ororo. “I was kidding about the nachos. Please help yourself.” he muttered quietly. 

“To share a story! We’ve all taken turns getting mocked, except you.” Jubilee pointed out. 

“Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I don’t have one.” Kurt said with a shrug. “I mean, I have often been embarrassed, but if we are sharing specifically romantic mishaps, then I don’t have any to share.” 

“C’mon, man. You’ve never tripped a cute girl with your tail at Oktoberfest or something like that?” Scott pressed on. 

“Our touring schedule never had us in Bavaria in autumn, unfortunately.” Kurt replied. 

“Never dropped a chick off the trapeze?” Peter asked, over a mouthful of food. 

Kurt gasped, horrified. “Never!” 

“Uh, Peter, you just skipped right from ‘embarrassing moments’ to ‘have you ever murdered someone at work.’” Jean stated, shaking her head. 

“Also, my trapeze partner was my sister.” Kurt shifted in his chair, bringing his feet up under him so he perched on the seat. His tail twitched as he was briefly lost in thought. “Although, I suppose I could tell you about the time I headbutted a man and broke his nose.” 

Scott threw up his hands. “Great! More blood!” 

“Ha! Did you headbutt him _romantically_?” Jubilee teased. 

“No. He tried to punch me.” Kurt replied. 

“Why did he do that?” Ororo asked. 

“I was dancing with his sister.” 

“Why not just punch him back?” Scott asked next. 

“My hands were occupied with his sister.” 

“Ooooh! The plot thickens!” Jean grinned, rubbing her hands together. “Now, could you maybe have smacked him away with your tail?” 

“My tail was mostly wrapped around his sister.” 

A round of laughter or whooping was heard around the table, until Peter leaned in to raise a point. “Okay, okay, I’m kind of starting to sympathize with this guy. From what you’re saying, it really just sounds like he walked in on you plowing his sister.” 

Kurt shook his head vigorously. “ _Nein_! It was all perfectly innocent, I swear!” 

“I think we need a little context.” Ororo said, patting his shoulder. 

“Oh. Okay. That might help.” Kurt nodded. “So, there was this nice little town we always stopped at once a year when we were on tour. The people there were friendly, but old-fashioned. Isolated. They were very religious.” 

“Even more than you?” Jubilee asked skeptically. 

Kurt nodded. “ _Ja_ , very much so. This one time we had stopped there, it was in the middle of the summer. They were having a celebration at their church, which included an outdoor dance in the evening. They were kind enough to invite us all to the dance, but there were rules. There was to be no alcohol, we were to dress sensibly, there was no modern-style music, and no close dancing between men and women.” He paused and laughed. “When dancing, we were told to ‘leave room for Jesus’ between two partners.” 

“So, basically, no ‘having fun.’ Gotcha.” Scott summarized. 

“Essentially, yes. However, this was the first social function I was actually allowed to attend. I was instructed to keep a ‘low profile’, if you will. So I mainly stood around quietly.” Kurt explained. “The same could not be said, however, for the other members of our troupe. Dieter spiked the punch almost immediately. He brewed his own alcohol for his fire-breathing act, and it was very, very strong. None of us were dressed ‘sensibly’ by the town’s standards, and we didn’t know how to dance ‘appropriately’.” 

“I feel like this is, basically, a music video in the making…” Jubilee mused. 

“Maybe. I remember my sister was making out with the pastor’s son, and my brother was dancing with two girls at once! So when a very pretty girl asked me to dance with her, I thought nothing of it!” 

“Oooh, here we go.” Jean muttered under her breath. 

“Okay, so is this the girl you were dancing with, who’s brother tried to punch you?” Scott asked. 

“ _Ja _.__ ” 

“Alright. So I’m going to need, like, a demonstration of what you were actually doing with her, in order to understand the rest of the story.” Scott explained. 

“We were just dancing.” Kurt insisted. 

“Given your previous description, I’m having a hard time believing that.” Scott countered. Kurt frowned in embarrassment. 

“I volunteer!” Ororo offered selflessly. 

“Oh! Alright…” Kurt agreed. He and Ororo stood up and faced each other. “Well, if you don’t mind…” Kurt said. He slid one hand around her waist to the small of her back, pulling her closer. His other hand took hers and held it out to the side, elbows bent. In turn, she moved her remaining hand to between his shoulder blades. “Like this.” he confirmed, when they were both in the proper position. 

“Sure, but like, what about the tail, though?” Scott asked, moving his hand to indicate Kurt’s tail gently swaying behind him. 

“Oh. _That_.” Kurt glanced behind himself. “I think that’s where the trouble started.” 

“Figured as much.” Scott replied plainly. 

“So, this young lady and I were dancing and chatting. She seemed to be enjoying herself, but we had both had some punch and as time went on, she started teasing me about my tail. All in good fun, but she kept bringing it up, laughing and asking me what I could do with it, and so on…” He moved back from Ororo slightly and widened his stance, setting one foot back. “So, we were at a part in the song where one might spin and dip their partner. Because she had been teasing me about my tail so much, and we were having such a good time, when that part of the song came up, I did this…” He leaned towards her and whispered, “Just follow my lead. And don’t worry, I won’t drop you.” 

“Hmm. I’m not worried.” 

He moved their hands over her head, gently spinning her and pulling her back. When she was close to him again, he pressed his hand firmly against her lower back, tipping her back deeply and dramatically. His tail wrapped around her knee and bent it, bringing it up off the ground and adjacent to his hip. She gasped as her head was tipped completely back, and her world view was now upside down. 

“Woah.” Jean said under her breath. 

“She had asked me what I could do with my tail, so I just said to her, ‘Whatever you want me to, _Fräulein_ ’” Kurt explained, before he pulled a speechless Ororo back into a standing position and released her leg. 

“So that was helpful.” Scott said, turning to face Kurt. Kurt pulled Ororo’s chair out for her before moving to perch on his own. “Now, when did the headbutting start?” 

“Immediately after that. Her brother must have seen us, and marched over, and swung at me. It was all I could do to get us both out of his path without dropping her. He almost hit his own sister! I think I just headbutted him out of reflex. I had never headbutted anything other than a soccer ball before.” Kurt explained frantically, “He just fell in a heap and started screaming and bleeding. His sister started screaming, too, and more men rushed over and pulled me away from her. They hit me a few times and tried to drag me off somewhere, but my brother stepped in and punched a few of them. My sister took me back to our camp, but I heard afterwards that there was almost a brawl, and the dance was shut down and we all had to pack up and leave before the police were called.” 

“You couldn’t teleport yet, could you?” Jean asked. 

“I was probably not yet fourteen.” Kurt replied, shaking his head. “My brother was _furious_. He yelled and yelled, about how stupid I was to think I could get away with something like that, and about how stupid _he_  was to think he could bring me along and no one would notice.” He lowered himself down into his chair, sitting cross-legged. “He was right. We were banned from that town from then on, which cost the whole _Jahrmarkt_ a lot of money.” He had lowed his head, talking quietly while holding his tail across his lap. “The worst part, I think, was that my brother told me that the girl I was with would probably be treated poorly or shunned. Because they know that I touched her.” 

“Well, fuck.” Peter muttered, mainly to break the awkward silence. 

“I’m sorry, man. I really thought that story was going to end up being funny. Usually when people get headbutted, it’s funny.” Scott rambled. 

Ororo shifted uncomfortably in her chair, and scratched at the side of her Mohawk. The only other sound was Peter scraping up the last nacho crumbs off the pan. “We got a new game!” she said abruptly. “In the common room! It’s called Jenga, which is actually from a Swahili word that means ‘to build’ so I’d like to try it. I think we can all play.” 

“Yes! Let’s do that!” Jubilee snapped her fingers and pointed enthusiastically at Ororo. 

“Yep! That or Twister!” Peter agreed. 

“We are definitely not playing Twister with you, Peter.” Scott insisted. 

“Aw, come on, guys! Kurt! You’re so long and bendy, you’d kick ass at Twister.” Peter called out. Kurt shook his head vigorously. 

“We can just move the Twister mat to my room, later…” Jubilee said to Peter quietly, and he instantly had a giddy smile. 

“Ugh, then we’ll have to fucking burn it…” Jean lamented, as Jubilee was not nearly as quiet as she thought. 

“Don’t be a prude, Jean.” Jubilee said with a pointed look. 

“Yeah, don’t be a prude.” Peter joined in. Jean rolled her eyes. He continued, “You can just rinse it off in the sink, anyways…” 

Jean screamed and punched his arm.           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Smooth Operator' is by Sade and was released in 1984. It's definitely make out music.


	13. All You and Everyone We Knew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone hangs out in the common room and plays games.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yet another light 'hanging out and talking' chapter. Note: Crazy Eights is probably the only card game I know how to play, so that's what they're playing.

After several rounds, the rules of Jenga had devolved from ‘don’t use your powers, that’s cheating’ to ‘use your powers if you want, I don’t care, just don’t wreck the place.’ The current Jenga tower was higher than it had ever been, and was so precariously stacked that the players were almost afraid to speak at full volume around it. In the previous turn, Kurt had successfully removed a block with his tail, and placed it on top of the tower by teleporting to the ceiling and hanging upside down. Currently, Jean was using her telekinesis to remove a particularly high-risk block from a lower part of the tower. 

“This is a risky move at this point in the game, ‘Ro. I can’t imagine Jean would be attempting it if Kurt’s previous move hadn’t left her with so few options.” Jubilee said in a hushed, professional tone. 

“That may be true, Jubilee, but if she manages to pull this off, then Peter is going to have an even harder time than if she had gone with a safer option. It’s a big risk, yes, but the potential rewards are bigger.” Ororo responded in the same tone. “Back to you, Scott.”   

Ororo and Jubilee turned to stare at Scott expectantly. He stared back, confused. “We’re doing golf commentary for a Jenga game?” 

“Duh.” Jubilee replied. 

As they were waiting for Scott to respond, Jean had succeeded in removing the block, and delicately placed it at the top of the stack. Ororo motioned her hand towards Scott, reminding him that it was still his turn to speak. Finally, he sighed before joining in. 

“And she’s done it!” he said, as enthusiastic as his hushed tone would allow. Jean could be seen doing a conservative fist pump In celebration. “It looks like Peter has his work cut out for him. I would _not_ want to be Mr. Maximoff right now! Back to you, ladies.” Ororo and Jubilee burst out in laughter. 

“Whatever, Summers. You’d be lucky to be me any day of the week.” Peter said confidently, without looking in Scott’s direction. Scott scoffed and Peter lowered his goggles. 

Peter walked up to the tower, and used his powers to flick a block in the middle of the tower so fast it few across the common room. The rest of the tower didn’t budge. With a cocky smile, Peter ran to retrieve the block and ran back, placing it atop the tower. From the perspective of his teammates, the block instantly appeared in it’s new position. Peter threw both arms in the air victoriously, which was a feeling he was able to enjoy for about half a second. After that, the strong gust of air turbulence  that accompanies his powers caught up to him and knocked the tower over. To add injury to insult, the tower tumbled in his direction, raining hard wooden bricks down on his head. 

“Ah! Goddammit! Motherfucker!” he yelled, flopping to the floor dramatically as his teammates laughed at him. 

“Saw that coming!” Jean said, and Kurt nodded emphatically. 

“Pfft, you did not!” Peter claimed, still laying on the floor. “I had this in the bag! You guys got lucky.” 

“You failed to account for unfavorable weather conditions.” Ororo pointed out. 

Jean picked up one of the blocks that was still on the table and gently tossed it at Peter, so it bounced off his stomach. She giggled at the pitiful ‘Oof’ sound he made. “That’s for being a sore loser.” 

Kurt followed suit, softly lobbing a block at Peter’s stomach. “And that’s for taking the Lord’s name in vain.”   

“Ha!” Scott exclaimed, and tossed a block at Peter significantly harder than the other two had. It bounced off Peter’s elbow.   

“Ow! What was that for?” Peter curled up and glared at Scott, clutching his arm. 

“I dunno. Peer pressure?” 

“Okay, guys. Stop throwing things at him. It’s getting pathetic.” Jubilee said, unenthusiastically. 

“’Ro? You said ‘Jenga’ means, like, ‘building,’ right?” Peter whined from the floor. 

“Essentially, yes.” 

“What’s Swahili for ‘ruined friendship’?” Peter peered at Ororo expectantly, lifting up his goggles. Scott and Kurt laughed at him, while Jean booed him and threw another block in his direction. 

Ororo suppressed a laugh and shook her head. “ _Uharibifu wa urafiki._ ” 

Peter propped himself up on his elbows. “Hmm. Doesn’t really roll off the tongue, does it? Probably why they had to settle on ‘Jenga.’” 

******

 

Once the Jenga blocks were put away and the rest of the team managed to coax Peter up off the floor, they split up to pursue other activities. Peter and Jubilee sat at opposite ends of a small table behind a well-worn couch, playing a game of their own design. It was a version of checkers where each player had only three seconds to make a move. If they failed to make a move or the move they made was invalid, a timekeeper/referee would take one of their pieces. Kurt crouched on the back of the couch, overseeing the game and counting out three-second intervals in his head. Across the common room,  Jean, Ororo, and Scott sat around a table, playing a round of Crazy Eights. 

“So, Jean…” Ororo started hesitantly as she arranged her cards. “Have you given any thought as to what your code name will be? Would you like any help?” 

Jean laughed sharply and played a card. Scott raised an eyebrow briefly at her response, but quickly played a card of his own. 

“What? I can be helpful. I’m quite creative.” Ororo insisted. 

“Oh? Did you have to cycle through a lot of duds before you came up with ‘Storm’?” Scott teased. 

“Surprisingly, no.” Ororo said with a pointed look. She picked another card out of the deck. 

“Look, the reason I don’t need your help is that I don’t plan on actually coming up with a code name.” Jean eventually stated. She didn’t look up from her cards. 

“Good. I’m curious to see what Raven will come up with for you.” Scott said with a smirk. He threw an Eight onto the discard pile. “Change it to Clubs!” 

Ororo immediately threw another Eight card onto the pile. “Change it back to Hearts!” Scott tipped his head back and groaned. Ororo grinned at his displeasure and then looked back at Jean. “You know it won’t be anything good, right? She’ll try her hardest to come up with something you will hate.” 

“Pfft. She can wanna call me ‘Mean Jean the Dick-Punching Queen’ if she wants, it’s not gonna happen.” 

“... Care to elaborate?” Scott asked cautiously. He played a Two card. “Haha! Pick up two, ‘Ro!” 

Ororo picked up two cards, and threw down the Two of Spades. “Ha! Pick up four!” 

Jean picked up four cards, and then set her cards down and leaned back in her chair. “Well, I’m just going to wait a few days, and then tell Raven that I’ve selected ‘Jean Grey’ as my code name, and I’ll just make her think that it’s a perfectly acceptable choice.” she explained casually. She picked her cards back up, and delicately picked out the Queen of Spades and added it to the discard pile. “Pick up nine!” 

“Nine!? How?” Scott whined. 

“Two plus two plus five. Equals nine.” Jean said flatly. 

“The Queen of Spades isn’t cumulative with the Twos!” Scott argued. 

“Of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Ororo interrupted. “About the name, I mean?” Meanwhile, Scott begrudgingly picked up nine cards. 

“Well, that’s what I’ve done the last four times she asked me to come up with a stupid code name, and that’s what I’ll keep doing until it sticks.” Jean explained with a casual shrug. 

Ororo pursed her lips briefly and looked away. “Ooh…kay…” she muttered. 

“This is just too many cards. I can’t even hold all these cards.” Scott complained. 

“Scott, hon, you have big man hands. Use them!” Jean replied, tilting her head towards him. 

“Mean Jean.” Scott muttered under his breath as he tried to arrange his cards, He laughed when she kicked him under the table. 

******

 

“ _Meine Damen und Herren_! Are we ready?” Kurt called out, hunched over on the back of the couch and looming over the two players. 

“You’re going down.” Jubilee stated, glaring across the checkers board and blowing a bright pink bubble with her gum. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.” Peter responded casually. 

“A simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’ will suffice.” Kurt said, shaking his head slightly. The two players shrugged and nodded. “Then, on your mark. Get set. GO!” 

The game always starts off easily enough, when there are lots of moves available and both players are forming a strategy. It ends up being fair because, although Peter experiences time slower than everyone else, he is ultimately just not a good checkers player at all. Therefore, as long as Jubilee can plan ahead and keep her cool, she has a fair chance. Kurt watches the game like a hawk, tail swaying behind him like a metronome as he silently keeps time. 

“Y’know, Kurt, it’s too bad you guys ran into a group of backwards German hillbillies…” Peter started, half-leaning over the back of his chair. “Cuz anywheres else in the world, moves like yours would _definitely_  get you laid.” Kurt narrowed his eyes at Peter, but said nothing. 

“I dunno…” Jubilee said, staring intently at the game board with her hands balled into anxious fists. “Everywhere you go, lame old dudes get cranky when a bunch of sexy outsiders roll in with booze and sweet dance moves that flood every chick’s basement…” She watched the board with darting eyes, hands flying out to move pieces at regular intervals. 

Peter nodded thoughtfully and leaned back harder, hands laced behind his head. “Flooding the basement? Wow. Is that what girls call it?” 

“Some do. It’s one of several terms used to describe the same thing.” Jubilee said with a shrug.   

Peter grinned. “Learn something new every day!” Kurt’s hand shot out and snatched one of Peter’s pieces. “Shit!” Peter muttered and quickly made a move before leaning back again. “Jubes, I’m starting to feel like you’re, like, my window into the world of women or something.” 

“Glad to be of service.” she said with a serious nod. 

“What does this term mean?” Kurt asked, glancing between his two friends. Jubilee snorted. 

“I’ll explain later…” Peter said suggestively, with a wink. 

“On second thought, I would prefer if you didn’t.” Kurt said hastily. 

“Fine. Live in ignorance. See if I care!” Peter threw his hands up, before angrily moving a game piece. 

Jubilee tilted her head towards Kurt and pressed her hands together. “It’s basically what girls get instead of a boner.” she gently explained, before quickly moving a game piece. 

Kurt’s eyes widened and his ears darkened. He looked back down at the game board. “Regardless, you’re both forgetting I was barely into my teens. If a woman approached me like that, I would likely scream and run away.” he rambled quietly. 

“Pfft. You’d do that now!” Jubilee exclaimed, before bursting into laughter. Peter quickly joined in. 

“I…” Kurt stammered, “probably wouldn’t scream?” Peter and Jubilee only laughed harder. Kurt narrowed his eyes at Jubilee. “You’re the worst.” he practically hissed, but smiled in spite of himself. 

“He’s right. You are the ‘vorst.’” Peter laughed. Kurt waited until Peter was done moving his game piece to swat the back of his head with his tail.      

“You’re both wrong. I’m the best.” Jubilee replied while confidently tossing one pigtail behind her shoulder. Her cocky demeanor quickly dropped when Kurt snatched one of her game pieces. “Oh! Fuck!” she swore, and quickly sat forward to survey the board, shaking her hands frantically. Seconds ticked by as she weighed her options, and Kurt reached down to claim another piece. “Ah! Dammit! STOP RUSHING ME!” she cried shrilly. 

“THAT’S THE NAME OF THE FUCKIN’ GAME, SISTER!” Peter yelled across the table, with his arms held out at his sides. 

“Eek!” she practically squeaked, before grabbing a game piece, and frantically moving it across the board, jumping over at least four of Peter’s pieces. “King me.” she stated plainly, when she finally planted her piece on the far side of the board. 

“Holy fuck.” Peter breathed. Kurt leaned back and whistled. 

“It’s like I said.” she smirked, and pulled up the lapels of her canary-yellow jacket. “I’m the best.” 

******

 

“I think they’re talking about us.” Ororo said quietly with a sideways glance towards the boys, as she carefully arranged her checkers pieces. 

“Of course they’re talking about us. They literally having nothing else interesting going on in their lives right now.” Jean replied dryly. She had taken over Kurt’s position, but instead of perching on the back of the couch, she knelt on the seat and rested her head on her arms, which were folded on the back of the couch. “And, no, I didn’t read their minds to tell you that. It’s just a fact.” 

“Not necessarily. It’s equally likely they’re making fun of each other for some stupid reason.” Jubilee pointed out. Jean shrugged. 

“Are we doing regular checkers or speed checkers?” Ororo asked, once her pieces were arranged. 

“Fuck it. I’m too lazy to keep time.” Jean mumbled. 

“Sounds good to me. I’m too tired to panic about checkers anyways.” Jubilee conceded.   

Ororo started the game by making the first move. “Now Jean, I feel bad to even bring this up again, but I hope you know that what went on between you and Scott last night _does not_  satisfy the criteria of our bet.”   

Jean opened her mouth as if to argue, but quickly changed her mind. “Yeah, that’s fair.” She then smirked and added, “Still gonna finish the bet before you get any, though.” 

“Unfortunately, you may be right.” Ororo reluctantly agreed, before smiling and looking down, adding “Although, I can’t help but think that we did today may have _done something_. To me, at least.” 

“Totally! I mean, that _did something_  to ME, and I wasn’t even involved!” Jubilee said excitedly. 

“Admittedly, I can see the utility of the tail now.” Jean added. 

“You couldn’t before?” Jubilee asked incredulously. “It’s a whole other appendage, it has _infinite uses_!” she said with a raised eyebrow.   

“Oh, EW! It’s not like… You don’t mean…” Jean stammered with a grimace. 

“INFINTE. USES., Jean.” Jubilee reiterated with a straight face. 

“Well, I guess that’s for ‘Ro to find out, and for us to tease her about later.” Jean said with an authoritative nod. 

“Perhaps. Or perhaps it’s for me to find out, and you two to be jealous of.” Ororo offered calmly, while fiddling with a checkers piece. Jubilee looked at Jean while gesturing towards Ororo in agreement. Jean shook her head and smiled. 

******

 

“I feel like the girls are talking about us.” Kurt said abruptly, as he looked up from his cards. 

“Well, don’t stare at them! Then they’ll just talk about how much we weird them out.” Peter whispered harshly. 

“I dunno, man. They’re probably just talking about, like, makeup or celebrity gossip or something like that.” Scott replied, without looking up from his cards. 

“Ha! Wow.” Peter laughed loudly at Scott, shaking his head. 

“What?” Scott asked, annoyed. 

“How do you even have a girlfriend? You have, like, no clue about women.” Peter said, leaning back in his chair. 

“What!?” 

“Women only talk about that shit on TV. Cuz the stuff they _actually_  talk about isn’t fit to put on TV.” 

Scott scowled at Peter skeptically. “Elaborate.” 

“Oh, you know. It’s everything from, like, talking about their periods and stuff, to, like, going over _all_ their sexual encounters in _agonizing_ detail…” Peter explained casually, waving his cards around as he did. 

“Pfft! No way!” Scott crossed his arms. “I mean, maybe some girls are like that, but I know Jean is a very private person.” 

“Ha! Hate to break it to ya, Scott, but at this point, I’m sure _all_ of Jean’s friends could pick _your_  dick out of a lineup.” Peter said with an easy shrug. Scott scoffed loudly, but was unable to come up with a verbal response. 

“I can’t attest to the women here, but I can confirm what when my sister and her friends got together, their topics of conversation would make even Peter blush.” Kurt added helpfully. Peter smiled and pointed at him, while still looking at Scott. 

At that moment, a bought of infectious laughter drew their attention to the direction of the girls. Ororo was telling a story, involving elaborate hand movements and an animated, gleeful expression. The other two girls hung on every word, commenting and laughing along. 

“See? Take a look and tell me they’re not talking about dicks.” Peter demanded of Scott. 

“Ororo gets that excited about plants.” Kurt pointed out. 

“Exactly. And judging by the Jean and Jubes’ reactions, she could just be telling them again about the time she smashed that guy’s sack.” Scott added. 

“Ugh… Yeah, that could be it, too.” Peter agreed, shuddering slightly. 

“The most noteworthy thing about that story, for me, is that ‘Ro is apparently, like, the calibre of woman where she could basically crush your junk, and you’d still crawl back the next day and ask for more.” Scott said. He leaned towards Kurt and added, quietly, “You _need_  to get on that.” 

Kurt frowned “Frankly, at this point I’m a little frightened.” 

“Yeah, and, besides,” Peter interjected, “that coulda just been that dude’s fetish or something.” 

“There are guys out there with a fetish for getting their ‘nads mashed like a potato?” Scott asked skeptically. 

“That seems counterproductive.” Kurt muttered. 

“Sure! Why not? You name it, someone gets off on it.” Peter replied. “It’s whatever floats your boat!” 

“So, I don’t suppose you happened to have a fetish for girls with nosebleeds, then?” Scott asked Peter with a smirk. 

“Oh, God, no. Not in the slightest. My boner was never so dead as it was that day.” Peter stated unequivocally, frowning and shaking his head as he did so. 

The next several minutes were dedicated mainly to teaching Kurt the basics of Crazy Eights, which was sometimes complicated by Peter running a constant commentary on everything around him and everything that crossed his mind. Scott was in the middle of explaining to Kurt that, no, the suit of the Eight card doesn’t matter when you are trying to change suits, when Peter leaned over the table and swatted his arm. 

“What?” 

“Dude! Look to your left if you wanna get your mind blown!” Peter whispered across the table. Kurt was already looking that way, but trying to hide it behind his hand of cards. Scott looked over, towards where the girls were sitting, just in time to see Jubilee pull her lacy purple bra out through the sleeve of her T-shirt, before throwing it to the floor and putting her arm back in her coat sleeve. 

“FUCK that bra!” she exclaimed loudly. 

“That’s the spirit!” Ororo cheered. Jean shook her head with a smile. 

“Holy fuck.” Scott muttered under his breath. 

“I know, right?” Peter leaned back with a smile. 

“How do they even do that?” Scott asked, still in awe. 

Kurt shrugged. “Magic? Girl magic?” 

“Boobs don’t obey the laws of physics, bro.” Peter explained, with a far-away look in his eye. 

“Now, Scott, would you say that Jubilation is getting comfortable for the evening, or that she is trying to seduce us all?” Kurt asked. He folded his cards in his hand and waited patiently. 

“Well, I dunno. She might be trying to seduce Peter a little bit.” Scott said with a shrug. 

“Nah, she knows I’m still seduced from yesterday.” Peter replied, not looking up from his cards. 

“So she’s the one who did all the seducing, then?” Scott pressed. 

“Well, yeah. I would have been happy just to play video games.” Peter scratched his head before adding, “I mean, her idea was, like, way, way, better. Like, sooo much better.” 

“I don’t really wanna pry, I’m just curious because it’s not like there was a lot of obvious sexual tension or anything like that, that I noticed, anyways…” Scott added. He fiddled with his hand of cards to try and make himself seem less nosy. 

“Trust me, dude, I was as surprised as you are.” Peter leaned back in his chair, abandoning his cards entirely. “She kinda just sprang it on me. Said she thought I was cute and stuff. And, like, she’s fucking hot and she’s always fun so I figured, ‘Why the hell not?’” 

“That’s it?” 

“Yep. I was even like ‘Hey, we can check out my blacklight posters in my room’, and like, set the mood or whatever. But she was like ‘Nope. We’ll bang in my room.’ Who was I to argue?” Peter explained casually with his arm hooked over the back of his chair. 

Scott’s mouth dropped open, and a dire expression crossed his face. “You…invited a girl… into your room…with a _blacklight_?” 

“Uh, yeah? Have you ever seen my blacklight posters? They’re pretty sweet, I got this one-” Peter rambled. 

Scott cut him off with a wave of his hand. “I’m familiar with the concept of a blacklight poster. Are _you_ familiar with the other things that blacklights illuminate?” 

“Uuuhhh...” 

“Peter, have you changed your bed sheets in the past six months? Do you own more than two towels? When was the last time you washed them? Do you keep your dirty laundry in a basket, or do you just drop it on the floor?” Kurt folded his hands on the table as he interrogated Peter as politely as possible. 

“Ooohh…shit…that might not have been the best idea…” Peter muttered, looking downward. 

“Your room’s a biohazard zone. If you flicked that blacklight on, it would be visible from space.” Scott explained, crossing his arms. “No girl could ignore that, no matter how horny she was.” 

“Whoa…Dodged a bullet there!” Peter said, swiping his hand across his brow. “I should probably clean my room if I’m planning on inviting Jubes up there.” 

Kurt leaned towards Peter and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You really should clean it regardless.” 

******

 

As the evening progressed, the games became increasingly ignored. Peter and Kurt abandoned their card table in favor of a worn-out arm chair, where Peter sprawled across the seat and Kurt perched on the back. Judging by Peter’s animated rambling and Kurt’s occasional polite nods, Peter was in the middle of explaining some Seventies-era concept album or classic arcade game. Scott remained at the card table, but had his head resting on his folded arms, apparently having fallen asleep. The girls gave up on checkers and instead took turns stacking the pieces into an elaborate tower while they chatted. 

“...So what I’m saying is that there’s no way anyone will ever resolve the ‘circumcised versus uncircumcised’ debate as long as they’re asking the guys themselves, because every man on the planet is just going to say that whatever he has is obviously the best.” Jean explained. Ororo nodded thoughtfully. “So there needs to be, like, a study of people who have contact with dicks in order to find out what’s actually the best option.” 

“Like, you take a guy home from the club, and a week later you get, like, a satisfaction survey in the mail?” Jubilee asked with an amused smirk. 

“Sure, why not?” 

“Please rate the following statements using numbers one through five, with five meaning ‘strongly agree’ and one meaning ‘strongly disagree’…” Ororo teased with a professional, polite voice. “Statement one: I was satisfied by the subject’s ability to maintain an erection.” 

Jubilee snorted and added “Statement two: I would look forward to sucking that dick again, in the near future.” 

“Well, if you’re not going to take it seriously…” Jean shook her head but laughed despite herself. 

“Statement three: I am going to recommend this dick to my friends and family.” Jubilee added before she and Ororo burst into laughter. 

At that second, Peter instantly appeared behind Jubilee, leaning around her shoulder slightly. “Hey, Jubes, where is that Lucky Charms tattoo from earlier? I need it.” he whispered. 

“What do you need it for?” She turned to him with a confused look. 

“Well, Summers fell asleep with his shoes on, so I was gonna put the tattoo on his face to see how long it takes him to notice it.” he explained hastily. 

“Yeah, don’t do that.” Jean stated flatly. 

“I have to, it’s a tradition.” Peter said in all seriousness. 

“Look, I can’t give you the tattoo _right now_ , but if you were to come up to my room _later_ , I’m sure we could find it _together_.” Jubilee explained calmly, peering up at him. 

“But, like, I kinda need it _now_ , so…” Peter continued, sounding annoyed, until he actually picked up on what she was saying. “…Or we could just do that. Yeah. That works.” he corrected, nodding vigorously. Jean and Ororo exchanged wide-eyed, scandalized glances. “I guess I could just draw a dick on him. Anyone got a pen?” Peter held his hands out expectantly. 

“Again- don’t do that.” Jean repeated sternly. 

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed heavily. “Ugh, fine. Be lame, see if I care. Later!” and he disappeared with a wave. 

Ororo gawked at Jubilee. “Wow.” 

Jubilee smiled and did a giddy little dance in her chair. “ _Someone’s_ getting laid tonight!” she sung quietly.   

“Okay, so, I don’t really even want to know, but I have to ask or I won’t be able to sleep tonight…” Jean said, leaning towards Jubilee. “Where, exactly, did you put that tattoo?” 

Jubilee leaned back and laced her hands behind her head. “Inner thigh.” 

“Holy shit. You set the bar high.” Jean replied, clearly impressed. 

Jubilee shrugged. “Gotta set it somewhere…” she mused, before adding, “It’s like I always say: Men are like a…” 

“I’m gonna cut you off right there.” Jean interrupted. Ororo nodded in agreement. It was not the first time they have had this conversation. 

“Men are like-” Jubilee attempted again. 

“Nope. Don’t want to hear it.” Ororo interjected. 

“...Like a tile floor-” 

“Stop.” 

“Cuz if you lay-” 

“No. Don’t say it.” 

“Lay them right the first time…” Jubilee pressed forward, until Ororo got up off her chair and walked over to her, pressing her hand across Jubilee’s mouth. 

“That’s enough nonsense!” Ororo hissed. Jubilee grabbed Ororo’s hands and struggled while giggling. 

Jubilee ducked out from Ororo’s grip, sliding partially under the table. “Youcanwalkonthemfortherestofyourlife!” she finally managed to blurt, before giving in to an uncontrollable giggle fit. Ororo shook her head in defeat and Jean tipped her head back and groaned loudly. 

“Why the hell are you guys still up? Go to bed! We talked about this!” Everyone turned towards the door of the common room, only to find Raven standing there, wearing a white house coat and holding a mug. She tapped her foot disapprovingly as she awaited a response. 

“We were just heading that way!” Kurt called out helpfully. 

“Yep. Sure looks like it.” Raven replied sarcastically. She pointed towards the floor near where the girls were. “Who’s bra is that?” 

“Mine!” Jubilee responded from halfway-underneath the checkers table. “The under-wire was poking me!” 

“Yeah, sure. No nudity in the common room, please.” Raven looked unimpressed. 

“Do I look naked?” Jubilee said under her breath. Ororo tried to shush her. 

“GO. TO. BED. That’s an order.” Raven stated authoritatively before storming off. 

“Easy for her, never had to wear a bra in her life, just decided where she wanted her titties to be and put them there…” Jubilee ranted to herself. 

“Dude, does your mom actually own a housecoat, or does she just decide she wants to look like someone in a housecoat?” Peter asked Kurt. 

Kurt sighed heavily and closed his eyes briefly in frustration. “I don’t know, Peter. Why don’t you ask her?” 

Jean walked over to where Scott was still sleeping with his head in this arms. There was a Jenga-block wall built in a half-circle around his head. “Who build this?” she asked, half-annoyed and half-amused. 

“I did. To protect him from Peter.” Kurt replied, throwing a hand up to indicate himself. 

“Oh. Neat. Thank you.” Jean said. Kurt nodded once. “Now, should I just wake him up, or…” 

“I can take him to his room. He might not wake up that way.” Kurt offered. He walked towards Jean and Scott. 

“Perfect, thank you.” Jean smiled. “Could you maybe take his shoes off, too? He hates getting dirt on the bed.” 

“Jean, I can transport him, but if you want him undressed, that’s your department.” Kurt replied. 

Jean thought for a second. “Fair enough. Can I come with you, then?” 

Kurt nodded and stood between Jean and Scott, placing one hand on Jean’s shoulder while wrapping the opposite arm around the middle of Scott’s back. “ _Gute Nacht_ , everyone!” he called out. 

“Night!” Jubilee, Peter, and Ororo replied in unison, waving goodnight to their three friends. Kurt, Jean, and Scott disappeared into a cloud of blue/black smoke. 

“Well, we got a horseshoe tattoo to find. Better get on that, or we’ll be up all night…” Peter said to Jubilee, trying to sound casual. 

“You should know that if a horseshoe is turned upside down, all the luck falls out.” Ororo whispered to Jubilee with a sideways glace. 

“Hmm. Noted.” Jubilee replied with a grin. Peter walked behind her and wrapped both arms around her midsection. She slung one arm around around his neck, leaving one free to wave goodbye to Ororo. “Sweet dreams!” 

“Good night, you two!” Ororo said with a laugh as they both zipped away. She stood in the silence of the now-empty common room and sighed. “Great. Alone again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is from the song "Dance Hall Days" by Wang Chung, from 1983. That part of the chorus goes "When all you and everyone we knew could believe, do, and share in what was true- Dance hall days, love." I thought it was cute.  
> Also, I promise that the next chapter will feature actual freaking plot development. I'm sorry for all the "hanging out and being pals" fluff. I can't help myself.


	14. Hot For Teacher

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven, Hank, and Charles have a meeting. Meanwhile, the X-Men are left to their own devices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is it possible to set something in the '80s and not have references to pro-wrestling? No. No it isn't.

More than a week had gone by since Raven had started the current lesson plan, and it was finally looking like the end was in sight. The classroom sessions on explosives had finally been seamlessly integrated with previous lessons on firearms, and the recent Danger Room sessions had shown that the newer X-Men were able to apply their new knowledge in increasingly complicated and challenging scenarios. Now, she and Hank stood in Charles’ office, having a meeting about their current situation and plans for the near future. Raven was blue for the occasion, but wore her white tank top and pants. Hank, however, maintained a more ‘human’ appearance, complete with plain khaki slacks and a button-up shirt. 

“...So, essentially, everything has gone surprisingly smoothly and according to schedule, once we were able to resolve that whole ‘Danger Room/ robot’ fiasco…” Raven explained, with an annoyed glance towards Hank at the end. 

“I said I was sorry!” 

“Good, and keep saying it, cuz I’m still mad about it.” 

Charles held up a hand to try and stop any bickering. “How have they been handling the more difficult scenarios?” 

Raven perked up. “Great, actually. It’s almost like the more challenging the situation, the better they do. Everyone’s really stepped up, and I have to say I’ve been really pleased with their progress, across the board” She grinned proudly, but quickly leaned in to mention, “Don’t tell them I said that, though.” 

“How much longer do you think you’ll need with this subject matter?” Charles asked. 

Raven shrugged. “Couple more days should wrap it up, if everything goes as well as it has been.” 

“Now, once you’re done with the current lesson, I’m going to need Kurt for a couple of days, to make some modifications on the Blackbird.” Hank interjected. Kurt had started off helping Hank in his workshop because it was less ‘academically demanding’ than the activities the American students were assigned, but he quickly developed a mechanical inclination, and his abilities to hang upside down, see in complete darkness, hold things in his tail, and stick to smooth surfaces proved useful in airplane maintenance. 

“Sure, I can work around that.” Raven replied. 

“I’m also going to continue training him in in-flight emergency protocols and use of the autopilot system, in case anything were to happen to both of us.” Hank continued. 

“That’s fair.” 

“Ultimately, I’d like at least two, preferably three of the new X-Men to be trained pilots, starting with Kurt because he’s most familiar with the hardware.” Hank explained, more to Charles than to Raven. 

“Oh..kay. You know he doesn’t have a driver’s license, right?” Raven pointed out. 

Hank scoffed. “That doesn’t matter. This is a state-of-the-art aircraft, not a K-Car! Now, I know it’ll take some time to fully train multiple people, so I’d like to stagger them. I’ve already started with Kurt, and I’d like to start with the second student sooner rather than later.” 

Charles nodded. “That’s reasonable. Who did you have in mind?” 

“First Ororo, then maybe Jean.” 

Raven narrowed her eyes at Hank. “Peter has, by far, the fastest reaction time of any of them.” 

“Ha! Peter once started a fire because he was too impatient to follow the instructions on a bag of popcorn.” Hank chuckled at the memory. 

“Okay, fair enough. What about Jubilee?” Raven asked, leaning over the back of her chair. 

Hank’s expression straightened. “Jubilee can fly a plane when she stops using her powers to change the station on my radio.”    

“Haha! She still does that? What a trooper.” Raven snickered. 

“I’m sick of having to fix it all the time.” Hank scowled, while Raven kept laughing. 

“So it looks like you’ve got a plan...” Charles said to Hank, attempting to re-direct the conversation. Hank straightened up and nodded. “With that settled, I’d like to talk about the short seminar course we’ll start once those things are completed.” 

“Is it Conflict Deescalation? Because I have to say, I’m more of a ‘conflict re-escalation’ type of girl…” Raven laughed to herself. 

Charles laced his fingers together on his desk. “It’s Sex Education.” 

Raven threw her head back and laughed hysterically. Hank took a second to collect his thoughts. “We actually already cover Sex Ed as part of our compulsory Human Anatomy curriculum. I’ve compared it to the other High Schools in the area, and it’s far superior to the standard American public High School program.” he explained carefully, almost like he’s bargaining. “In fact, we boast the lowest teenage pregnancy rate of any school in the state!”    

Charles was undeterred. “Just because it’s better than the _dismal standard_ doesn’t mean it isn’t woefully inadequate.” He looked down at his desk and shuffled through some papers. “Besides, half of our new X-Men didn’t take that course.” 

Raven, who had managed to stop laughing, laughed sharply once more. “Okay, so, for one, Peter’s almost thirty, if he hasn’t figured out sex by now, he’s not gonna learn…” Charles didn’t see the humor. Raven pressed on. “Which is another point. Why would a bunch of probably-already-sexually-active adults need to take Sex Ed? That ship’s sailed!” 

“The objective of this seminar series is to act as a ‘pilot program’ for the type of subject matter that will be added to our current Sex Education curriculum in the future.” Charles explained calmly. “This program should touch on issues that aren’t properly addressed by the current curriculum. Issues relating specifically to mutant sexuality in modern society.” 

“So who’s going to teach this course?” Hank asked, his hands in his pockets. “Should we call in Mrs. Pendergast? She teaches Anatomy.” 

“I was hoping you two would teach it.” 

Raven threw her head back again and laughed even harder than last time. “Nope!” she yelled, when she could finally catch her breath. 

“I mean, I could get Mrs. Pendergast’s course notes, and go from there…” Hank offered nervously. 

“This isn’t to be a class on body parts and lists of diseases. This is to be a class on the issues facing young mutants in everyday life, be they anatomical or romantic.” Charles replied. 

“Well, I am NOT, and I repeat, NOT teaching a damn Sex-Ed course on proper weird-mutant-parts etiquette to my illegitimate son, thankyouverymuch.” Raven stated plainly with her arms crossed. “That’s just weird for everyone and I won’t have any part of it.” 

“Raven, the ‘birds and the bees’ talk is a normal part of parenting.” Hank interjected unhelpfully. The glare she shot him should have caused him to burst into flames. 

“I was actually thinking of splitting the team in half by sex, and having you teach the girls, and Hank teach the boys.” 

Raven laughed again, but quieter this time, with her head down. “Wow, Charles, this just keeps getting better and better…” 

“So what would you like us to cover, Professor?” Hank asked, after straightening his posture. 

Charles paused thoughtfully. “Well, consent and body autonomy in a relationship is important ground to cover. A depressingly high percentage of our student body has actually been bought and sold as chattel at some point, so that’s perhaps even more relevant than usual.” Hank nodded along and Raven shrugged begrudgingly. “Another topic is how one’s mutation affects romantic relationships, proper etiquette when revealing and using one’s powers, and understanding how mutation affects adult relationships with mutant and non-mutant partners.”   

Hank nodded in agreement, while Raven braced herself on her chair and rolled her eyes dramatically. “So, basically, if your mutation makes people super-itchy on contact, or a guy has, like, radioactive jizz, maybe give your partner a heads-up before going for third base? That’s just common sense! No need to have a whole seminar about it!” 

“Common sense isn’t so common, particularly among young people.” Charles pointed out calmly. 

“Which one is third base, again?” Hank whispered, leaning in slightly. 

Raven’s eyes widened and she scoffed loudly. “Jesus Christ, Hank, you are NOT prepared to teach a Sex Ed class…” 

“ME!?” Hank reeled back, insulted. “You’re so much more qualified?! I’m sure the girls will be _enlightened_  by your rambling, meandering account of going to Woodstock and getting a stupid Hendrix T-shirt and maybe chlamydia…” 

Raven gasped. “It’s not MY fault you spent the _entire sexual revolution_ locked in your lab by yourself!” she shot back. “It’s a good thing you have the easy assignment.” 

“I do not!” Hank protested. “The girls would be way easier to teach. The boys can be disruptive.” 

Raven scoffed, yet again. “Oh, please. Peter’s just your standard class clown, so he’s just going to seek attention like usual. Scott’s typically a model student unless he feels the need to butt heads with Peter, so as long as you keep Peter oriented, he’s never an issue. And given the subject matter, Kurt will say nothing and do nothing. He’s furniture.” she explained, counting out each student on her fingers. “The girls, however, are vicious. They’ll eat me alive!” 

Hank and Charles exchanged bewildered looks. “All three girls are excellent students, with no record of behavioral problems.” Charles pointed out. “Jubilation stuck chewing gum to the underside of a desk once, but otherwise, no complaints.” 

Raven rolled her eyes. “You guys don’t see them when they’re all...together. In a little huddle.” She moved her hands around, indicating a compact spherical shape. “They just clump together and whisper to each other all the time! I know they’re talking about me!” 

Hank snorted. “You’re paranoid! They’re friends. Why wouldn’t they chat among themselves?” 

Raven narrowed her eyes at Hank. “They aren’t ‘chatting,’ they’re scheming or gossiping.” 

“Ha! Are you afraid they’ll put chewing gum on your chair? Or start a rumor that you’re not a natural redhead?” Hank leaned back and crossed his arms smugly. 

“No! ‘Though I am kinda afraid Jean’ll give me a goddamn aneurysm if she doesn’t like that I gotta explain how she’s not allowed to mind-rape anybody.” 

“Well that’s dumb. Introduction to Telepathy one-oh-two already covers mind-rape, so it’s not worth getting upset about now.” 

“Enough!” Charles interjected, before shaking his head. “Now, firstly, Jean can’t give anyone an aneurysm, I don’t know where you got that idea.” Raven frowned and shrugged. “Secondly, the negative implications of mutant power usage _is_ important subject matter I expect you both to touch on in your class.” 

Hank gave a professional nod, while Raven slumped in her chair and sighed heavily. “Fine.” 

Charles nodded and started gathering up the papers on his desk. “Good. Do we have any other questions.” 

“No.” Hank and Raven said in unison. 

“Good.” 

******

 

“So it’s not called a German suplex just cuz you’re doing it?” 

“ _Nein_ , it’s a distinct type of suplex. Let me show you.” 

Kurt and Peter stood on a small stack of gym mats, discussing various wrestling moves. The team had been told to kill time in the gym while their instructors were at a meeting, but the focus had quickly shifted from productive exercise and training to fake wrestling moves. In recent months, professional wrestling shows had become somewhat of a guilty pleasure among the team, although really only Jean felt guilty about it. 

Kurt moved behind Peter and wrapped his arm around Peter’s chest. “So for a German suplex, I would pick you up like this and throw you backwards.” He released Peter and they faced each other. 

“So, when they do this instead…” Peter looped his arm over Kurt’s neck, pulling him down into a sort of headlock, “it’s more of a domestic suplex?” 

Kurt ducked his head out from under Peter’s arm. “Yes, but you can just call it a suplex.” Peter shrugged. “Did you want to try some? They’re not hard.” 

Across the gym, Jean and Scott are standing around an obscure old piece of gym equipment, trying to figure out how it’s supposed to work. Scott crouched down to pick up something underneath it. 

“Huh, I wonder if this pin’s supposed to go somewhere? Maybe that’s why it seems like the pulley’s not catching…” he said thoughtfully, rolling the small metal object between his fingers. 

Jean leaned down to inspect the object, but quickly pulled back with a sharp laugh. “Scott, that’s a bobby pin! That fell off someone’s head…” Scott scowled briefly and shoved it in his pocket. Jean laughed at him again, until her teammate’s activities across the room caught her eye. She crossed her arms and watched as Kurt and Peter moved around each other, putting each other in various forms of headlocks and clutches. “What the hell are they doing? I thought you said you guys were too mature to be practicing Pro-Wrestling moves on each other!” 

Scott stood up and looked across the room. Jean pointed towards Kurt and Peter, and peered at Scott with a bemused, expectant look on her face. “Uuuh…” he started, wracking his brain for a response. “They’re hugging.” was the best he could come up with. 

“Hugging?” Jean was not entirely convinced. 

“Yeah. Hugging.” he nodded, and placed his hands on his hips. “I, uh, told them what you said about guys dying younger due to lack of emotional support. They really took it to heart.” 

“Hmm-mm.” Jean tilted her head and continued to watch her teammates. “So this is them ‘emotionally supporting’ each other?” 

At that moment, she watched as Kurt grabbed Peter around the chest from behind and threw him backwards, with Peter’s shoulders hitting the mat with a dramatic thud. Peter instantly hopped up and cheered, demanding to be thrown again. 

Scott ran his hand through his hair and looked down with second-hand embarrassment. “Yep. They are ‘emotionally supporting’ the _ever-living shit_  out of each other.” 

Jean crossed her arms again and stared at Scott side-on, with her brow raised skeptically. He tried to look away, but when he glanced back, she was still staring at him. “What? Ignore them, they’re being idiots!” he pleaded. 

She laughed and dropped her arms to her sides. “Oh, sure. Like you don’t want to be there with them, throwing people around like Rick Flair…” 

“No, of course not!” he insisted, before adding “Besides, Rick Flair’s signature move is a figure-four leglock, so…” 

Jean burst into laughter before he could finish. 

Across the gym, Peter and Kurt were still taking turns throwing each other around and putting each other into various holds. Peter had just finished a move that started as a simple body slam but rolled into a pin. 

Close by, Ororo had just wrapped up using a leg press while chatting with Jubilee. Jubilee found her attention caught by all the commotion that Peter and Kurt were causing, and watched as Peter rolled Kurt into a pin position, with his elbow hooked around Kurt’s knee. She jogged towards the mats and yelled “Hey! Do me next! Do me next!” while bouncing ecstatically. 

Ororo tossed her towel over her shoulders and walked up behind Jubilee. “I love that you’re as classy as you are subtle.” she whispered. Jubilee stuck her tongue out at her. 

Peter grinned at the prospect of having an audience. “What do you think, ladies?” Beside him, Kurt stood and brushed himself off. 

“It’s good, but you really need to sell it more.” Ororo said thoughtfully. She crossed her arms before adding, “I’m _seeing_  it, but I’m not _believing_  it.” 

Kurt nodded emphatically. “You’re right! It was the same at the circus. We would often act like props were less stable, or wobble as if we might fall…” He held his arms out and teetered back and forth with a wide smile. “People don’t care about technical skill. They’re only interested if they think someone might die!”    

Ororo pointed at Kurt in agreement. “Yes! It’s like one of the other street children I knew. She would beg for money while pretending to be blind! She made almost as much as the pick-pockets, but had less risk.” She paused in remembrance before adding, “Although, she may have been too good. People would often toss her pebbles and buttons instead of money, thinking she couldn’t tell the difference. And sometimes, people would steal from her because they thought she wouldn’t see it.” 

Kurt gasped and muttered “Oh, no!” under his breath. 

“Don’t worry. I could often steal it back.” 

“So that settles it.” Jubilee hopped up on the gym mats and exerted her authority. “Kurt, you gotta do a sweet finishing move on Peter, but you gotta rip your shirt off like Hulk Hogan first.” 

Kurt clutched the hem of his worn-out long sleeve t-shirt. “But I don’t have anything on underneath it?” 

“...Neither does Hulk Hogan…” Jubilee said slowly, turning her hands over. Kurt shook his head. “Ugh, fine. Peter, _you_ rip _your_  shirt off.”   

Peter leaned back slightly and crossed his arms. “I will if you will.” 

“Hmmm…” Jubilee tapped her chin in consideration. “Tempting, but I actually like this shirt.” Her neon-green baggy T-shirt had a bright-pink brand logo on the front, and had been altered into a crop top and both sleeves and part of the neckline had been cut away, leaving her black sports bra plainly visible. 

“You two will just have to come up with a more impressive finishing move, to make up for the lack of nudity.” Ororo explained. “The audience demands it.” 

“Oh! Oh!” Jubilee bounced on the balls of her feet and pointed towards a weight rack to the side of the gym mats. “Kurt, can you do that thing where the guy gets up on the turnbuckle and jumps off, and, like, gets his legs around the other guy’s neck and then swings around, and pulls the other guy’s head into the mat?” she asked, waving her arms around in demonstration as she did so. 

“ _Ja_ , of course. That would be easy.” Kurt nodded, and Jubilee became visibly more excited. 

“Uh, Kurt, dude, sorry…” Peter held his hands up and backed away, “I like you, but I don’t ‘wrap your legs around my head’ like you…” Kurt shrugged, but Jubilee was crushed. 

“Don’t be a prude, Peter…” Ororo said quietly. 

Jubilee moved into the center of the gym mats and kicked off her sneakers. “Well, ‘Ro, it looks like we’re gonna have to get in on this if we want this match to finish with any dignity…” Ororo smiled and kicked off her shoes as well. 

“So what are we thinking? Battle of the sexes or co-ed tag match?” Peter asked while crossing his arms. 

Ororo shrugged. “Let’s just practice some moves and see where it goes…” 

Across the gym, Jean was using her telekinesis to casually juggle a collection of small barbells. 

“I think the point of going to the gym is actually lift the weights with your muscles…” Scott suggested. He was still crouched around the same non-functional piece of gym equipment as before.   

“Meh, I don’t feel like it. This _is_  exercise, of sorts…” She carefully maneuvered the weights back onto their rack. “If you like lifting weights so much, you lift them!” 

“I mean, I could…” he said as he peered at the inner components of the old equipment. “I just think I’d like to use this thing instead. I’m SURE this pin goes somewhere…” 

“That is a ** **hair accessory**** , Scott.” she stated for the umpteenth time. She glanced over to the other side of the gym, just in time to see Jubilee throw Ororo forwards over her shoulder in a Judo-like takedown while Peter and Kurt cheered. “Look, now they’re all in on it.” 

Scott looked up and stared at his teammates. “Yep. Looks like it.” he said, trying to sound uninterested. 

Jean watched as he put his head back down and fiddled with the broken gym equipment. She tossed her hair back and sighed. “You know, we’re the only ones not having fun.” 

Scott didn’t look up from the equipment. “You’re not having fun?” Jean raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms. He didn’t need to look up to feel her staring at him. “What? We’re just more mature than that, you know?”   

She sighed. “Being mature sucks. Let’s go play dumb fake wrestling with our friends.” 

Scott grinned and hopped up, and practically ran across the gym. 

Back on the mats, Jubilee had Peter pinned, with his leg hooked around her elbow. Ororo played the role of referee, and hit the mat dramatically as she worked towards a three-count. A split-second before she reached three, Peter rolled out of the pin, much the the faux-shock of Jubilee. Jean and Scott arrived mat-side, and started pulling their shoes off. 

“Hey! Look who decided to stop being lame!” Peter cheered from the floor. 

“Well, we got sick of watching you guys screw everything up, and decided to march over here and fake-kick some fake-ass!” Scott said confidently as he stretched out his shoulders. 

“Hey! In this wrestling show, the moves may be fake but the ass is one-hundred percent real!” Jubilee boasted.   

“Kurt’s been showing us some things. With his acrobat training, he can deconstruct how each move works, so no one gets hurt.” Ororo explained, waving her hand towards Kurt, who had perched on top of a weight rack. 

“When you think about it, it wouldn’t be hard for us to just become Pro-wrestlers if this whole X-Men thing doesn’t work out.” Jubilee mused. “We’re already a group of good-looking, in-shape young people with tight-fitting outfits and rad nicknames. We’d dominate the wrestling world!” 

“Hell yes!” Peter agreed. “All we need is entrance music!” 

“What do you think, Jubilee? Should we show Jean how to do a suplex, by suplexing her a lot?” Ororo asked. Jubilee grinned, while Jean rolled her eyes. 

“I was thinking of another move that might be fun.” Kurt offered, hopping from the weight rack to the center of the mat. “It’s easy, but very dramatic.” 

“Sounds like someone I know.” Jubilee whispered to Ororo. Ororo shushed her and kicked at her ankle ineffectually. 

“Let’s see it!” Scott called out. Kurt walked up to Peter and smoothly picked him up, positioning him across his shoulders like a plank. They faced the same direction and Kurt had an arm slung over Peter’s shoulders and legs. Peter was so used to being the guinea pig at this point that he didn’t flinch or question anything. 

“So for this one, you pick up your partner like this, and swing their torso around the back of you, while maintaining a grip on their legs…” Kurt explained, “depending on how far you swing them, you can easily turn the move into a pin or leglock…” 

******

 

When Raven told the team to kill time at the gym while she was in her meeting, she hadn’t known exactly what to expect when she returned to collect them. She thought perhaps they would spend their time doing regular gym activities like lifting weights or using the various equipment, or that they would be lazy and hang around and chat, as they always seemed to do in their free time. What she didn’t expect was an impromptu wrestling show.  

She opened the door and walked into the gym just in time to see Jubilee deftly throw Jean backwards to the mat as Jean yelped. Scott had Peter in a firm headlock and laughed as Peter grabbed his waist and tried to throw him off his feet. Kurt helped Ororo up off the mat, only to immediately pick her up across his shoulders like he had previously done with Peter as she mock-squealed. 

“What the hell, guys?” Raven said flatly, throwing her arms up in exasperation. “I thought I told you to hit the gym.” The team immediately froze like a herd of deer in headlights. Jean made a vague attempt to brush herself off, and Peter and Scott let go of each other. 

“I did a leg workout!” Ororo pointed out helpfully, while still across Kurt’s shoulders. 

“Get down from…Kurt, put her down.” Raven motioned towards them in frustration. Kurt gasped and mumbled quietly in German and carefully set Ororo down. 

“I spotted her!” Jubilee added. 

“A leg workout doesn’t require a spotter.” Raven replied snappily. Jubilee shrugged. 

“I was trying to fix that equipment over there. Jean was helping.” Scott pointed in the direction the of the busted piece of equipment. 

“That’s been broken for, like, twenty-five years.” Scott opened his mouth to reply, but Jean motioned for him to stop. Raven sighed loudly and crossed her arms. “I just hope that someday the President doesn’t call and ask us to save the world or something, and I have to tell him that we can’t do it cuz the X-Men all threw their backs out doing fake wrestling shit.” She paused to appreciate the sheepish expressions and hand-wringing she had caused among the team. “Now, everyone get into the classroom. We have a few things to discuss before we start our Danger Room session.” 

The team filed into the classroom and each took their usual seats, clumped together at the back. Raven shook her head, but could not be bothered to tell them to move. She stood at the front of the classroom and paced authoritatively . 

“Alright, so the good news is that, if everything continues to go smoothly, we should be wrapping up our current subject matter in the next few days. After that, we’ll have a couple more days of general Danger-Room sessions and and more basic skills training and other tasks.” Raven watched as most of the team smiled and favorable-sounding murmurs could be heard. “The exception to this is Kurt. Hank needs you for some stuff. Like, airplane stuff. For a couple days.” 

“ _Jawohl._ ” Kurt said with a quick nod and jotted in his notebook. 

“He might also try to rope one or two more of you into some airplane stuff, soon. Details to follow.” Raven added. 

“What’s the bad news?” Scott asked, with his hand raised. “You said we had good news, does that mean there’s bad news?” 

Raven scoffed and smirked despite herself. “Uh, yeah, you could say that. The Professor informed me of the subject we’re going to cover starting at the end of this week, or early next week.” She paused and stood with her hands held behind her back at the front of the class. “It’s Sex Ed.” 

“What!?” multiple people exclaimed, and the team immediately started murmuring among themselves. 

Peter thrust his arm high in the air. “Can I be exempted? I already know how to have sex.” 

Raven sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “No. No exemptions.” 

“I thought we were supposed to have a Crisis Intervention class!” Kurt gasped, looking around the room. “What if there’s a crisis that needs…needs…” he trailed off, the English language having failed him. 

“Interventioning?” Peter offered. 

“To be intervened upon?” Jean corrected. 

“Trust me, Kurt, if I was any good at crisis intervention, I probably coulda talked our way out of this. I don’t like it any more than any of you do.” Raven explained wearily. 

“Well, some of us have already taken Sex Ed. Jubilee and I took it here, and I’m sure Scott took it at his old school.” Jean pointed out. 

“Yeah, I know. I explained that to the Professor. He said this was, like, an advanced Sex Ed course for mutants.” Raven flitted her hands around to demonstrate how ‘advanced’ the course was. Jean narrowed her eyes in confusion and whispering could be heard through the classroom. 

Jubilee put her hand up and waved it around. “Who’s gonna teach it?” Raven opened her mouth, but was interrupted as Jubilee continued, “Cuz it better not be Mrs. Pendergast! She’s a stuck-up prude! She never answered any of my questions!” 

Jean rolled her eyes and turned to Jubilee, “Jubes, you asked if a guy could have a dick so big that he passes out every time he gets a hard-on.” 

“AND?! She never answered me!” Jubilee cried shrilly. 

“I’m teaching it.” Raven finally said with another heavy sigh. Gasps were heard around the classroom. 

“Oh _Gott im Himmel…_ ” Kurt muttered under his breath, and put his head in his hands. 

“Actually, that’s not true. I’m just teaching the girls. Hank’s gonna teach the guys.” Raven corrected. 

“Aw, man!” Peter whined loudly. “Hank!?” 

“Yup.” Raven nodded, and moved to lean back against the desk. She surveyed the classroom while nodding slowly. The X-Men were equal parts confused and distraught. “Questions? Comments?” 

“Ohmigawd, like, soo many. Just none I can put into words right now.” Jubilee rambled. 

“Great. I’m going to go get the Danger Room set up for today’s session. You guys suit up and meet me there in ten minutes.” Raven spun on her heel and walked out of the room. 

As soon as Raven left the room, the girls turned to each other to discuss this recent development. Peter and Kurt walked over to Scott’s desk so they could do the same. 

“Fuckin’ Hank, guys?” Peter lamented, shaking his head. 

“I know!” Scott agreed, “I mean, has he even had sex with anyone? How can he teach Sex Ed?” 

“I dunno. Like, I heard a rumor he might have banged your mom in the seventies…” Peter said, pointing to Kurt. 

Kurt scowled. “Peter, stop it. You say that about everyone.” 

Peter shrugged and tossed his shaggy hair. “I’m tellin’ ya, man, the seventies were just a different time. It’s too bad you both missed it by being babies or whatever.” Kurt and Scott looked at each other in confusion. “Anyways, I’m gonna go get dressed. Peace out!” He shot his friends finger-guns before rushing out of the room, blowing both their papers and pens off their desks. They shook their heads and begrudgingly cleaned up the clutter.   

Close by, the girls formed a similar huddle. Jubilee leaned in and set the tone immediately. “So this is a fucking disaster.” she said flatly. 

“I don’t know. The idea of ‘advanced mutant sex’ is intriguing.” Ororo said dreamily. 

“Okay, ‘Ro, I know you’re envisioning ‘The Kama Sutra, but with tentacles’ but I really think it’s going to be more like ‘watch out for mutant super-herpes’ or something like that.” Jean explained. Ororo’s shoulders slumped. 

“Yeah, or, like, turns out if you bang the wrong guy, instead of a normal unplanned pregnancy, you end up laying a clutch of a thousand eggs…” Jubilee added, with her hands splayed and her eyes wide. 

“I am certainly not ready for a thousand babies.” Ororo said with a frown. 

“No one is! Plus, Raven’s just gonna yell at us a lot. She’s already mad about it, and she hasn’t even done anything yet.” Jubilee said as she crossed her arms. 

“True. But that said, we can still find a way to have a little fun with it. We always do.” Jean smirked. Jubilee’s sly sideways glance towards Ororo was met with confused shrug. They each started packing away their classroom supplies when they noticed Scott and Kurt doing the same.    

As the guys started walking out of the room, Ororo leaned over the side of her chair to yell, “Hey, Kurt!” He turned and looked at her quizzically. “Could you help me with my English report this evening? Perhaps after supper? If you have time?” 

He smiled. “Of course! It’s no problem. Would you like to meet in the library or…” 

“My room is fine.” 

He smiled wider, and nodded. “ _Ja_ , sure. See you there!” He turned and walked out of the room. 

Jubilee and Jean exchanged looks as Ororo giddily packed up the rest of her supplies. Jubilee laced her hands together on the table. “Now, ‘Ro, would you ever, in a million years, consider asking for English help from a native speaker? Such as me or Jean?” 

“Pfft, no!” Ororo laughed. “For one, it’s ‘Jean or I,’ not ‘me or Jean,’…” Jubilee frowned. 

“I’m sure that’s the only reason.” Jean added with a definitive nod, before they all left to get changed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is also the title of Van Halen's 1984 hit song.  
> Also, when I was writing this chapter, I seriously considered scrapping it because I thought the premise was too contrived. But then I realized that I have spent literally countless hours reading shippy 'and the hotel room only had one bed!'-style fanfiction (and friggin' loving it) so I wrote it anyways.


	15. A Woman Taken By the Wind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt helps Ororo with her homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mostly talking and feelings. Some discussion of the book "Frankenstein," so spoiler alert for an over-two-hundred-year-old book.

Shortly after supper, Ororo took her study materials from her English class and spread them out over her bedspread. Her having invited Kurt over this evening wasn’t _just_  a ploy to get him in her room again. She really did want his help with her report, especially since he seemed to be slightly obsessed with Mary Shelly’s _Frankenstein_. The book had been enjoyable, and was relatively straight-forward, but she had been given the impression that if she did very well on her last few English assignments, then she would not be required to take any more additional classes. She didn’t want to risk being roped into a whole new English course by turning in an ‘Okay’ book report. 

She had just finished laying out her notes when she heard two firm knocks at her door. “Come in! It’s open!” she called out. 

Kurt ignored the door entirely and teleported directly into her room, adjacent to her desk. “ _Hallo_!” he said, with a friendly grin. She smiled back, and he glanced down to her desk, which was completely bare, save for a couple small potted African violets. He appeared slightly confused, and she realized that he likely thought they’d be working at her desk. 

“I thought there would be more room on my bed. I spread my notes out, and there’s a lot of them. Plus it’s probably more comfortable, seeing as I have only one chair.” she explained, and swept her hand over the array of papers she’d arranged on her bedspread. 

“That makes sense!” he said with a quick nod, and walked around her bed, to the side opposite to where she was standing. Something caught his eye, and he pointed towards the large window and build-in window seat. “Oh! This is new!” 

On top of the window seat were six small clay pots, each set on a small plate to prevent water from staining the seat cushion. Kurt walked over to them and peered into each curiously. Ororo walked up beside him and stood proudly, with her hands clasped behind her back. “They’re sunflowers!” she announced. “Or, they will be. I’m starting them in these pots, but I will be planting them as soon as it gets a little bit warmer.” 

Kurt grinned and pointed to the pot furthest to the right. Of all the pots, it was the only one where the barest hint of green was starting to poke out through the potting soil. “This one’s growing!” he observed, squinting at the small green dot. 

Ororo gently placed her hand on his forearm. “They’re all growing. That one’s just the fastest. Now, let’s see if we can make some sense of my book report.” She used the hand on his arm to turn and gently pull him back towards her bed. “I don’t want to waste _your_  whole evening on _my_ homework.” 

They arrange themselves sitting cross-legged on opposite sides of the wall of paperwork that Ororo had laid out. She picked up one piece of paper and handed it to him. “This is my outline so far. I feel like I touched on all the major themes, but I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something.” Kurt took the paper and started to read it. “I mean, I’m pretty sure the major theme is about Victor playing God. I’m not overly familiar with Christian ideology, but they make that pretty obvious…” 

Kurt nodded, still reading, “That is correct.” 

Ororo continued, “The author really makes it clear that Victor has no respect for natural or religious law. I mean, marrying his sister? He was already doomed before he started sewing corpses together…” 

Kurt smiled slightly, and lifted his head up briefly. “Well, yes. Although, they are not really related. She was adopted, remember?” 

“Yes, but they were so young! And he’s still thinking to himself ‘I can’t wait to get married so I can have sex with my sister!’” 

“Admittedly, it is an unusual arrangement, but probably not as unusual at the time. And because they aren’t actually related, it’s not like their children would be sickly or anything like that.”   

“The children might be healthy, but their father would also be their uncle.” 

“I feel like you may be hung up on this particular plot point.” 

“It’s just so bizarre! You’re adopted! Would you be okay with marrying your sister?” 

“Well, no, but I’m not an eighteenth-century Genevan nobleman…” 

“As if that makes it any better!” 

“Maybe we should move on…” Kurt offered. He set down the outline that Ororo had given him. Ororo shrugged. “Now, based on what you have here, you have ‘covered your bases,’ so to speak. But there’s a little more to the story that you could touch on, if you wanted…” he explained carefully. 

She smiled. Of course he would be too polite to just tell her she had missed the point of the whole book. She motioned her hands over all the papers laid out of the bed. “Yes, please! I want to do really well on this. If I do well on these last few assignments, I might be done taking extra classes forever!” 

Kurt leaned back in surprise. “Really? That’s excellent! We’ll have to go all out, then!” He picked up a pad of paper and a pen, and started jotting notes down. “I’m pretty sure I’ll be in Math classes until I die, but if at least one of us can escape…” he added with a grin.    

Pen and paper in hand, he effortlessly hopped across the ‘wall’ of papers and turned, landing beside Ororo so they were facing the same direction, so lightly that the bed didn’t even creak. He clicked the pen and started writing large, barely-legible words on the pad of paper. “Now, we can start by thinking of what Victor Frankenstein actually did wrong. The simple answer is that is he played God. But what did he actually do?” 

Ororo glanced over the notes that Kurt had written, and considered how impossible it would be for her to decipher them later. “Perhaps I can write the notes?” she offered. He handed the note paper and pen over to her. She tapped the pen on the pad of paper, considering Kurt’s question. “He sewed corpses together and animated them to create life.” she answered. 

“ _Ja_ , but what’s so wrong about that, other than the ‘corpses’ part? Almost all of us can create life. It’s not hard. There are billions of people on the planet. What’s one more?” 

“Well, the life he created was evil and a hideous outcast. It killed several people to get revenge on Victor.” 

“Yes, but it’s also intelligent and desires companionship. It only turns to violence to get Victor’s attention after it fails to befriend the poor family. It has no way to know right from wrong.” Kurt folded his hands on his lap and looked at Ororo expectantly. She shrugged, unsure where to go from there. 

“So what, then?” 

“Basically, Victor was wrong to try to create life on his own. He designed a creature that would, in his mind, be more perfect than God’s creations. But what was even more harmful was that when the creature didn’t turn out as he expected, he turned his back on it immediately.” He paused to make sure Ororo could finish making notes before continuing. “He created a being that was malformed enough that it would never be accepted into society, but intelligent enough to be aware of it’s own isolation and loneliness. And he set it out into the world without any guidance or supervision whatsoever.” 

Ororo set down her pen and tilted her head with a slight smile. “So essentially, Victor Frankenstein’s greatest sin is that he’s a terrible father?” 

Kurt nodded enthusiastically. “Exactly!” He leaned closer, becoming more animated. “But Victor’s neglect doesn’t stop there. When the creature learns how much he is hated and feared by normal people, he begs Victor for only one thing: a mate, or a companion. He only wants to not feel alone all the time. But Victor denies him even that. It’s also worth noting that love and companionship is something Victor has, in the form of his bride…” 

“Sister-bride.” Ororo corrected. 

“...Okay. Moving on…” Kurt said shrugging slightly, “Victor has a partner, someone to love him, but he completely fails to protect her from the creature. Even though he knew the creature would come after her if he denied his request for a companion.” Kurt continued, with increasing intensity, “Eventually, Victor and his creation became so wrapped up in revenge and hatred that they destroy each other. But it’s easy to see how even the smallest amount of care from Victor early on could have made a huge difference in the story.” 

“Definitely.” Ororo nodded, and jotted down more notes. “Or, he could have just made the creature the girlfriend he wanted. Then they would have disappeared into the wilderness and wouldn’t have bothered another soul.” Kurt smiled and nodded. “Or…he could have just taught the creature how to write poetry or socialize properly, and then he could get his own girlfriend…” she added with a smirk. 

“Even while being a hideous monster?” 

“Ugly men talk their way into women’s pants every day!” she exclaimed. “In fact, the creature needing a custom-designed girlfriend probably had more to do with Victor having made him so…formidable? It would take a _special_ woman to be able to withstand his… _affection_.” 

Kurt furrowed his brow in confusion for a second, until her meaning clicked and his eyes grew wide. “Oh. I didn’t think of that.” 

“Ha! Men never do.” 

“Now I have to think about that every time I read this book. _Danke_ , Ororo, for ruining _Frankenstein_ for me.” His tone and face are serious, but she can easily tell he’s joking. She gives his shoulder a shove and he laughs. 

“I’d say that if all I had to do was point out Victor’s generosity when endowing his creation, then you didn’t like the book that much to begin with.” she pointed out, folding her arms. 

Kurt sighed. “I suppose I can work past the mental image you’ve given me. But it doesn’t mean I’m happy about it.” He tries to keep a straight face, but ends up smiling despite himself.   

“So what is it about this book that appeals to you? Other than it being more entertaining than _Moby-Dick_?” Ororo asked, changing the subject. 

“Hmm… I think I like it partially because it always makes me think about how important it is to be kind and understanding, even when it is difficult. I mean, like the creature, I was also abandoned at birth, but while the creature was rejected by the family of poor people he encountered, my foster family always accepted me without question. It probably wasn’t easy, but that’s what they did.” 

“It was probably much easier than you think.” Ororo offered. She regretted opening this line of conversation. 

“Ha! At the very least, I was a smaller package…” He smiled. “I also think it shows how important love is. Perhaps God’s love specifically. That’s really Victor’s greatest failure. He could ‘play’ God by creating life, he had that ability, but he couldn’t bring himself to love it. And that would have made all the difference. God would have loved his creature, because God loves all his creations. Victor could pretend to be a god, but he really wasn’t fit to be one. He wasn’t even fit to be a parent, when you think about it.” He rambles somewhat, moving his hands around as he talks. His tail curls and sways behind him, and Ororo finds it hard not to be distracted by it. 

Eventually, he casts his gaze downwards, and his hands still. He continues, but quieter, “There were times when I was separated from my family, and people treated me like I was less than human - like a dog…” He quickly glances up to her, but then quickly away again, muttering quietly “No, worse than a dog- people talk to dogs…” He looks back down with a small shrug. “Regardless, if I didn’t have God’s love to sustain me, if I didn’t know that I am the way that I am because God intended it to be so, it would have been easy to give in and act the way others expected me to, and lash out at those who’s only mistake was not understanding…I’d have a lot more in common with Frankenstein’s creation than I’d care to admit.” 

There it is. The pieces fell into place as Kurt finished his explanation. His hands are calmly clasped together in his lap, but regular, exaggerated sway of his tail gives him away. She isn’t sure whether to let him keep talking or try to change the subject. She doesn’t want to upset him, but she understands how hard it can be to find people to talk to. She put her hand on his closest shoulder, and he seems to lean into the contact slightly. 

“Thank you, Kurt. I think I understand the book, and maybe you, quite a bit better. Although, I have to say, I think any rampage of vengeance you’d take part in would consist mainly of you kicking people in the shins and then apologizing.” 

He grinned broadly, fangs on full display. “Ha! Well, being on a rampage is no excuse for not having manners.” They both laughed, and she let her hand slide off his shoulder. He looked back at her and scoffed slightly to himself, adding “It’s good of you to listen to me ramble on about how I had a rough few months, when you had to spend almost your whole life with no one to look after you.” 

She smiled warmly and patted the back of his hand. “That’s kind of you to say, but it’s not strictly true.” He looks at her wordlessly, but shifts in position to face her and curls his tail across his lap. He seems to think it’s story time. “Well, for example, the group of thieves and urchins I worked with supported one another. As one of the older ones, I looked out for and helped teach the younger ones, but when I was younger, other people did the same for me.” Kurt nodded thoughtfully, but kept looking at her, seemingly expecting there to be more to the story. 

She paused, unsure of how to proceed. Since arriving at the institute, she had tried to keep discussion of her past to a minimum. Not only because of her time as a Horseman, but also because she wasn’t sure her new American friends could understand her old life. She had been given a chance to start from scratch, to move past all the mistakes she’d made over her life, and she couldn’t afford not to fit in. But now, sitting next to a blue circus performer who’d always unabashedly worn his strangeness on his sleeve, it seems disingenuous to act like she was ever normal. 

“I actually spent most of my childhood in Kenya, though. My mother had family there, and once they got word of what happened to my parents, some of my mother’s relatives came to collect me. They were not overly close relatives, and I can’t say I was ever ‘adopted’ by anyone, but I was looked after and provided for, as well as they were able. The people in that region of Kenya were quite poor, simple farmers, but they did the best they could.” She kept her description simple. She’d mentioned living in Kenya before, but hadn’t gone into much detail. 

“So that explains you being fluent in Swahili _and_  Arabic. Is that also where…” Kurt trailed off, and quickly looked away, apparently thinking he’d overstepped. 

“Go ahead. Ask me anything!”

He smiled tentatively. “It’s just that I often notice you saying things like ‘Oh, Goddess’ or ‘By the Goddess,’ but I have to admit I’m not familiar with what goddess you’re referring too.” 

“Oh, well, that’s easy!” She leaned in closer, starting to move her hands around as she explained, “You see, the people in the village I was raised in followed a very old religion. I’ve never met anyone else outside of the village that adhered to it. They worshiped, or rather, sought the favor of, a goddess who’s name…doesn’t translate well to English. The closest translation would be something like ‘the Bright Lady,’ but most people just called her the Goddess.” Kurt leaned in closer, his palms pressed together and against his chin, hanging on her every word. “This Goddess had multiple ‘aspects’ or representations on earth, which could manifest in a multitude of ways. Everything from the way crops grew to the weather to political turmoil could be attributed to her in some way. In fact- did you want to hear a crazy story?” 

He grinned and nodded enthusiastically. “ _Jawohl_!” 

She smirked and leaned back, starting her tale with renewed enthusiasm. “Now, when I was about ten or eleven, our village was in the middle of the worst drought in decades. Crops were dying, wells were drying up, and the livestock was sickly. One day, I was walking with some other children, and I saw some animals that looked very unwell, because of dehydration. They looked so pitiful, it made me sad, and I cried. Not seconds later, the sky started to cloud over, and it poured rain! For hours! The next day, the sun was beating down, it was so hot… I looked up and just wished it would cloud over and rain again- and it did!” 

Kurt gasped. “Ten years old- that seems so young! You were an early bloomer!” 

Ororo shrugged. “Maybe. Girls mature faster than boys. How old were you?” 

“Fourteen or fifteen, I think.” 

“Hmm. That’s not too bad. I think Scott said he was around seventeen?” Kurt shrugged and nodded, and Ororo continued, “Anyway, it wasn’t long before people realized that _I_ was the reason that the drought was over, and many of them started to believe that I was a manifestation of the Bright Lady’s power over the elements. And really, that’s what I came to believe as well.”   

Kurt sat up straighter and crossed his arms. He stared at her for several seconds with an amused smirk. “So you’re saying,” he finally said, “that when you say ‘Oh, Goddess,’ or something like that, the goddess you’re referring to…is you?” 

Ororo leaned forward and shrugged slightly before propping her head up on her hand, with her elbow on her knee. “See? I told you it was a crazy story.” 

Kurt huffed an almost-silent laugh and smiled warmly. “No, I don’t think it’s crazy at all. Honestly, it explains so much about you.” 

“Oh? And what about me does it explain?” 

“Well, I don’t really know how to describe it. It’s just something about how you are?” Kurt scratched behind his ear as he wracked his brain. Ororo folded her arms and waited patiently for an explanation. “For example, when Peter first told me about you, he said ‘That is Ororo. She was a thief in Cairo!’ and he was pleased about this because he liked to steal things and thought you had this in common. Now, after I actually met you, I realized Peter could have said ‘That is Ororo. She is the Empress of a small country.’ and I would have been equally likely to believe it.”    

“Are you sure that’s not just because of the cape?” she asked with a laugh, referring to her uniform. 

“ _Nein_ , I am sure.” He nodded vigorously. “It’s just always seemed to me that you were very refined and…maybe removed? I mean, I know your life has always been difficult, and none of the choices you’ve had to make have been easy. But you give the impression of someone who’s in the world, but untouched by it. Someone rendered of something other than flesh and bone.”    

Kurt continues to look at her, his gaze warm and sincere. His tail traces lazy circles on the pattern of her bedspread. The intensity of his undivided attention starts to weigh on her, and she looks away and runs her fingers through her stark-white Mohawk. ‘Ororo the Goddess’ is a big step up from ‘Ororo the Horseman’ or ‘Ororo the thief,’ but it was still a title she had earned a lifetime ago, and had long since stopped deserving. She isn’t even sure if she should be insulted that he thinks she fits in so poorly, or touched that a man who’s spent countless hours on his knees in devotion to a higher power feels she has even a hint of divinity to her. He seems to notice her discomfort, and he looks down, idly picking at her English notes. 

Determined not to lose him to awkward silence, she teasingly kicks at his bony two-toed foot with her bare, toe-ring adorned one. “I think you’ll find I’m made out of the same kind of meat as everyone else.” she insisted with a friendly nod. 

“Well, yes, I know.” he replied, with a slight smirk. “I doubt an actual deity would allow Jubilation to put her in a headlock.” 

“Probably not, no.” 

They both chuckle quietly, and he shifts to prop his head up on his fist, with his elbow on his knee. “So how did you make your way back to Egypt, then?” 

“On a train!” He glares up at her, stone-faced, until she gives up and they both laugh. “Well, the whole story is a little long.” 

“I have no plans this evening.”  

“Okay, fine.” She readjusted her sitting position, uncrossing her legs and lounging with them bent and to the side. “So, after my powers first manifested, there were several years of relative prosperity for my village. Partly because I was able to ensure that the crops grew well and the livestock was provided for, and I was able to circumvent several severe weather systems. People still believed I was a manifestation of the Goddess, and so did I. But eventually things took a turn for the worse, in a way I had little control over.” 

“...Did the livestock get loose and eat all the crops?” 

“No. But some crops did fail. A type of blight, I think. Nothing I could fix with water or wind. There was some political upheaval in the region, and people struggled to do business and get supplies. People needed medicine, building supplies, farming equipment… things I couldn’t provide. There were threats of violence from surrounding areas, and increased poverty led to an increase in crime and people often tried to steal our livestock in the night. I was powerless to prevent any of it. But people soon became fearful and resentful of me. As if I was doing it on purpose, or as if they had lost my favor. I was confused and alone.” 

“What a horrible burden to put on a child.” 

Ororo sighed heavily. “Hmm. I was supposed to be a goddess, remember?” Kurt moved slightly closer, and his tail lay motionless in the space between them. He said nothing, but his sympathetic expression urged her to continue. “In any case, the situation continued to deteriorate, until one day, a man arrived. He spoke well, and dressed sharply in high-end, modern clothes. He was from Egypt, and said he had heard of me, my ability, and my village’s situation. What my people needed, he said, was money. Money would solve all their problems, and money was something he could provide for them if only I’d go back to Cairo with him, to work for him. Seeing little alternative, I agreed. I started training as a pickpocket the same day I arrived.” 

Kurt narrowed his eyes. “That seems like a waste of your talents.” 

“Not really. Within months, I had become the best thief in all Cairo.” 

“What about your village?” 

“I don’t know. I never went back or heard anything from them ever again.” 

Kurt wrings his hands and responds with a concerned-sounding ‘Oh.” 

“I mean, it’s possible that Farouk, the man I worked for, may have sent some small amount of money back to the village at some point, or may have even paid the village elders for the privilege of taking me off their hands,” she explained, as she rubbed her shoulder under her shirt wearily. “but I can’t imagine it was enough to make a difference. It wouldn’t surprise me if it was no longer on the map.” She scoffed humorlessly and shook her head. “Farouk never let me forget it, though. How much I owed him for his apparent generosity. No matter how good I was, how much I stole, it was never enough. You couldn’t say I was _owned_ , per se, just __i_ ndebted_. Forever indebted. I would never be free of him.” 

Her voice wavers slightly at the end, from the weight of the memory and the intensity of actually saying it out loud, and letting someone else know. She paused to reorient herself and, feeling embarrassed for possibly over-sharing and getting emotional, she starts to shift away from Kurt. He isn’t having it, however, and he quickly moves closer and places his hand firmly on her shoulder in reassurance. 

“It doesn’t sound like ‘owned’ and ‘indebted’ were meaningful distinctions, in your case. It sounds like modern-day slavery.” His voice is even and his expression is neutral but open. His hand doesn’t move from her shoulder, and it just feels so good to have someone else say it. To have someone else answer the question of ‘Why didn’t I just leave?’ Without thinking, she reaches up to grip the hand he has on her shoulder, squeezing it without looking up at him. He doesn’t flinch. 

“Yes, that’s how it seemed, at least. I think that’s why, when En Sabah Nur came for me, I didn’t really hesitate. It’s not even though I thought he could make the world better. I just didn’t see how it could be any worse.” 

He slides his hand out from under hers and off her shoulder and straightens up. “Maybe, in retrospect, when he came to you, you could have just told him to watch his tone. That he was speaking to a divine being.” He tilts his head and smiles faintly. 

“Hmm. Yes, that would have been the smarter option. It might have gotten me incinerated or dissolved into stone, but it was still a better option.” 

Kurt’s smile fell away. “…I was only joking.” 

“I wasn’t.” 

“Well, don’t say that. It’s not true.” 

“Of course it is. You can’t imagine the damage I’ve done.” She sits up straighter, and tries to maintain her reserve, but her wringing hands give her away. 

Kurt maintains no delusions of poise. His hands grip both his knees, and his tail thumps the mattress in an erratic, agitated distraction. He is desperate to reverse his friend’s train of thought. “But you’re here now, working as hard as you can. You could have just walked away, _nicht wahr?_ ”    

“Walked away __to_ where_, exactly? The city I helped destroy, or the village I abandoned to rot?” Ororo stared at Kurt, who stammered wordlessly in want of a reply. She knew, deep down, that she should stop talking, but she was sickly glad that someone other than her was feeling a hint the same discomfort and guilt she had felt since she got here. “I think maybe the only reason I’m here is because it’s easier to rebuild one building than dozens or thousands of buildings.” 

“I know that’s not true.” 

“No, you don’t. It’s like everyone just decided that we’d forget it ever happened, and not talk about how we were on opposite sides in a war, how I would have gladly killed all of you, how every horrible thing I took part in was a choice that I made, and not something I was tricked or brainwashed into doing…” 

“We didn’t _collectively decide_  to forget anything, we accept you because you willingly joined us when it mattered. Because we know you’re a good person.” 

“I didn’t switch sides when it _mattered_. It _mattered_  the whole time, and I still only switched sides at essentially the _last possible minute_.” She jabbed her bedspread dramatically with her index finger to emphasize the last three words, and again Kurt was speechless. Once she had started, she just couldn’t stop. It felt good, in an awful way, to pour it all out. To make someone else hear what the inside of her head sounded like, to try and get all her worst thoughts validated. It was like ripping off a scab and then asking someone if it looked infected. The only question was how deep would she dig, and how badly had it festered? 

She watched Kurt internally panic at his own inability to respond, and thought briefly that she should probably stop before he starts hating her. She reconsidered and decided that if that’s what happened, then it’s because she deserved it. “Did you know that I was there- or rather, here- when Scott’s brother was murdered? And I did nothing to stop it?” 

Kurt stared into his lap and shook his head silently. 

“And now, I see Scott every day, and we chat and work together, and we eat meals together, and his girlfriend and I share makeup. How do you think he feels about this? How can he stand it? I don’t know how he can even look at me.”   

Kurt furrowed his brow. “Has he said something to you?” 

“No. He doesn’t have to. Maybe he should.” Ororo stared into her laced hands in her lap. Kurt opened his mouth to say something, and reached slightly across the space between them, but quickly withdrew when she kept talking. “-To try and remind people that I don’t deserve their trust or their friendship. I can’t be relied on to make the right decisions. None of you should feel comfortable around me. How can I expect all of you to be around me when I can hardly look at myself? I-” 

Her head snapped up and she was shocked into silence when Kurt suddenly reached across the space between them with both hands to firmly hold her shoulders, with his thumb on her collarbone and his large fingers splaying into the space where her back ended and her neck began. He ducked his head to stare directly into her face, and the dim, late-evening light make it seem like his eyes glow of their own accord. 

“Ororo, please listen!” he said, with a forcefulness she hadn’t ever heard from him. When he saw he had her attention, he softened his tone. “You will never fall farther than into God’s hands.” 

She stared back, unsure how to respond. He searches her face, and seems to note her confusion before continuing, “I’m sorry, I don’t know how else to say it. What I mean is that nothing is truly unforgivable. No person is truly irredeemable, ruined, or worthless. Every day that the sun comes up is an opportunity to do things right, to be better, no matter what happened the day before.” 

She takes a breath, to try and process what he’s said, and try to come up with some kind of response. His burning amber gaze should make her uneasy, but it doesn’t. His expression is soft and concerned. She closes her eyes to think, only to feel herself be pulled into a hug. It’s not like the limp, casual half-hugs that people seem to exchange in this country. It’s firm and steady, if not slightly awkward due to them both sitting. She allows herself to collapse into it, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck. He makes a small sound that isn’t quite a laugh, and rubs her shoulder gently. 

“I’m not going to embarrass us both by acting like everything’s ‘okay’…” he says softly. Their proximity means that he’s lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. “But there was a young girl in Africa who was so touched by another being’s suffering that she opened the very heavens to stop it. That’s the kind of person you are. That’s what we all see, and that’s why we all love you.” She can feel a different, more casual pat on her shoulder, and realizes suddenly that it’s his tail. She’s all but overwhelmed, but the absurdity of it causes her to suppress a laugh. 

Finally, she sighs heavily into his neck. “I’m sorry I put all this on you.” she mutters. 

“It’s my fault. I brought it up.” He gave her shoulder another friendly rub, and she opened her mouth to tell him that, no, it wasn’t his fault at all. Before her words got out, he pulled back from her slightly to look at her tentatively, with his hands still firmly planted on her shoulders. “-but maybe you shouldn’t keep feelings like that to yourself all the time. It’s too easy to think oneself into a pit, _nicht wahr_?”   

Reluctantly, she let go of him and sighed again. “You’re probably right.” 

He grins. “Ha! Of course I am. And you have no excuse not to, either. You know where I live.” 

She crossed her arms and half-smiled. “Yes. In a shoebox with a hammock and my spider plant.” 

“Exactly!” he nodded with a grin. “Oh! And you also shouldn’t worry about Scott. I’ve never heard him say a harsh word about you. In fact, he keeps trying to get me to take you on a double-date with him and Jean.” he explained, before crossing his arms casually. “That means he either likes you or hates both of us.” 

It was all Ororo could do to maintain a casual expression. “Oh, that’s…interesting. Scott the matchmaker!” They both laughed a little awkwardly, and she picked at a fray in the hem of her jeans. “I suppose it does make sense. He likes to keep things in order. Maybe he likes to do that with people too?” 

“I wouldn’t be that generous.” Kurt said flatly, and Ororo raised a brow in confusion. “Scott’s not trying to match people up for their benefit. You accompanying him and Jean on a date is an integral part of a multi-step plan to get Jean in a car with him at the Drive-In theatre. My only purpose is to keep you from being a…I think they call it a ‘third wheel’?” 

“Pfft! They’re dating! If Scott wants Jean in a car with him, all he has to do is say ‘Hey, Jean, get in this car!’” 

Kurt scoffed. “Apparently not. He’s said that Jean has turned down the Drive-In as a date location, due to the possibility of poor weather ruining the movie. You can see how your presence would be useful to him.” 

Ororo struggled to come up with a response. Kurt clearly seemed annoyed at Scott’s attempt to set them up, but his irritation seemed to mainly be directed at Scott’s motivations for doing so. Could she salvage this, or had Scott -as Jubilee would say- cockblocked her? She tried to play it cool, fiddling with her lightning-bolt earring before speaking. “I mean, it probably wouldn’t be a bad time. There are some good movies coming out this summer, and they sometimes have triple-features!” 

Kurt scowled. “That’s not the point. Scott needs to realize that he’s not the protagonist of a romantic comedy, and I’m not his wacky foreign sidekick. I mean, I respect his authority as our team leader- if he wants me to kick a robot, I’ll kick the robot- but he doesn’t run my whole life.” 

“I think at least his heart is in the right place.” 

Kurt shrugged, unconvinced. “Maybe. Besides, I checked the movie rental store on Oak Street. It has three Frankenstein movies! We can have our own triple-feature right here, and have more fun without him! If you’re not sick of this story by the time you finish your report, that is…” 

Oh, right! She had forgotten about their planned movie night. She perked up, and nodded with a grin. “Of course not! That still sounds like a plan to me! I have my report due by Friday afternoon, so maybe Saturday?” Kurt nodded to confirm and she smirked before adding, “Maybe we should invite Scott, so he could be a third wheel?” 

Kurt laughed and shook his head. “Ha! His purpose can be to work the remote control. I have no idea what all those buttons do!” 

Ororo snickered, and started to pick up her English notes, which were still spread all over her bedspread. “That sounds perfect- it’s a date!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title comes from the song 'Rhiannon' by Fleetwood Mac, released in 1975. The full lyric is "All your life you've never seen a woman taken by the wind. Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win?"  
> Also, Kurt's line "You will never fall farther than into God’s hands." is something that a character from the TV show 'Dark' says at one point. That particular guy is kinda bad news, but it seems like a pretty on-brand thing for Kurt to say, and (having been raised Catholic myself) consistent with something he'd believe pretty strongly.  
> Note: Farouk, in the comics/cartoons, is also known as The Shadow King, a nasty character who features heavily into Ororo's backstory in a variety of ways (depending on the version of media you're looking at)  
> Sorry for all the feelings in this chapter. After this, we will return to our regularly scheduled "hanging out and talking, and maybe hooking up" for a bit.


	16. Voices Carry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean, Kurt, and Ororo procrastinate in an airplane. Jubilee, Scott, and Peter learn something new in the library.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light chapter. Some (mild) sexual content.

Kurt, Ororo, and Jean sat in the cockpit of the Blackbird, going over some of the recent modifications Hank and Kurt had made. The Danger Room sessions for firearms and explosives had finally wrapped up, and most of the new X-men had been assigned some kind of errands or chores to keep them busy while Hank put the finishing touches to the Blackbird and he and Raven prepared for the upcoming Sex Ed seminar. At the moment, Kurt was demonstrating some of the recent alterations to the cockpit panel to Ororo and Jean, who were to start pilot training in the near future. 

“So, the biggest change from the pilot’s perspective is that the ‘Emergency Protocol Activation’ button is now larger and more prominent, and closer to the center of the cockpit, where anyone could see it.” Kurt waved his hand around the obnoxiously large red button that said ‘Emergency’ on it. “The other major change is that the switch to activate the cloaking functions is now located on the underside of the panel on the pilot’s left, so it could only be activated by someone who knew where to look…” he explained, pointing to a nearly-hidden switch near his left knee. 

Jean leaned in closer and squinted at the small switch. “I can’t understand that writing- did you label it in German?” 

Kurt glanced down again. “Oh! Ha! That…” He pointed out the word written over the switch with a clawed finger. “That’s actually French- ‘ _Commutateur d’invisibilité’_ \- it means 'invisibility switch'. Doctor McCoy had to order some parts from manufacturers in Europe, so I’ll have to re-label them in English once the upgrades are completed.” 

Jean nodded thoughtfully. Ororo pressed further. “You speak French?” 

Kurt frowned slightly and tipped his flattened hand back and forth- the universal sign for ‘kinda.’”I speak _some_  French- alright French. I could make my way around France, I guess. My mother and sister are completely fluent.” 

Ororo leaned closer and rested her head on her hand, with her elbow on her knee. “Is it true that French is the language of love?” Jean giggled and swatted her shoulder gently. 

Kurt spared a sideways glance and scoffed. “Not when you have a thick German accent!” 

“In my old school, we had a French exchange student, and all the guys never shut up about how hot she was, and how sexy her accent was…” Jean reminisced, swaying her hands in demonstration. 

“Now, be honest, Jean…” Kurt teased, “was she French or was she Canadian?” 

“Pfft. Does it matter?” Jean shrugged, and Kurt laughed. 

“Are there other languages you know?” Ororo asked Kurt. 

He paused to think. “Hmm. Some Latin, some Romani, and about,” he held his thumb and finger mere millimeters apart, “this much Italian.” 

“Oooh. Now _that’s_  a nice accent!” Jean exclaimed. 

Kurt laughed at her enthusiasm. “One of our best jugglers was Italian. He taught me a few phrases. You would have liked him.” 

“Oh? Was he really hot?” Jean demanded. Kurt shrugged and nodded. “Well, what did he look like?” 

Kurt smirked. “Well, it’s been years since I’ve seen him. As I recall, he was tall, with nice hair, brown eyes, and a very nice friendly smile. He was very social and smiled and laughed a lot.” 

Ororo and Jean glanced at each other and Jean nodded. “Nice.” 

“He was very outgoing, even though he was missing several, um, _central_ teeth. He never allowed it to make him shy.” Kurt added. 

“Wait!” Jean cried, “I thought you said he had a nice smile! Now you say he was missing half his teeth?” 

“He did have a nice smile! And it was no more than five or six teeth.” 

“Well that’s not a nice smile, then!” 

Ororo turned to Jean and placed her hand on her shoulder. “Jean, people don’t smile with their teeth. They smile with their whole face.” 

Kurt snapped his fingers and pointed towards Ororo. “Exactly!” Jean crossed her arms and glared, unconvinced. “Perhaps I don’t know if he was handsome. All I can tell you for sure is that he was never lonely.” 

Ororo nodded in agreement. “-Which is what is most important. It’s much like a young man I was seeing in Egypt. He wore an eyepatch. Most people find these minor imperfections add character, Jean.” 

Kurt grinned. “Was he a pirate?” 

“Hmm. I hung around some shady people at the time. He may have actually been a pirate.” 

“Wow…” 

“I think he was mainly a car thief, though…” 

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. “Ah. The pirates of the highways…” 

Jean scowled and shook her head. “I don’t know if I could do ‘eyepatch’…” 

Kurt and Ororo stared open-mouthed at one another, and then towards Jean. “Um, Jean…” Ororo started, “Scott wears glasses or a visor all day, every day.” 

“Yeah, I know, but that’s different!” Jean insisted, “Glasses are perfectly normal, eyepatches are weird! Like, what’s going on under there?” She closed one eye in demonstration. 

Ororo reeled back in bewilderment. Kurt pressed his hands together and looked at Jean pointedly. “So you’re saying that if Cyclops were an _actual_ cyclops, then that would be too much for you?” 

Ororo burst out laughing as Jean struggled to come up with a response. “That’s not fair! You can’t ask me that, now that I’m emotionally invested!” Kurt smirked and turned back towards the control wheel. 

“The point is, Jean, that something minor like an eyepatch did not detract from this man’s attractiveness at all.” Ororo reiterated. Jean gave a disinterested shrug. Ororo’s expression soured as she added, “What _did_ make him less attractive, however, was when he decided to take up chewing tobacco as a habit…” 

Kurt recoiled with a loud ‘Ugh!’ and Jean shook her head ruefully. “Ew. _Total_ deal breaker.” 

“You’re not kidding.” 

Kurt straightened up in his seat and motioned towards the central portion of the control panel. “The other major change we made was to change the shape of the ‘Autopilot’ button, to make it more distinct from the ‘Emergency’ button…” 

“Kurt, tell me something in Italian!” Jean said suddenly. She had crossed her legs and folded her hands on her knee. 

“I can do that later on, if you’d like, but we’re almost done going over the modifications…” 

“Oh, come on, please! The longer this takes us, the less likely we are to have to do anything else today.” Jean argued. 

“Hmm…” Kurt lowered his head in consideration, “ _Ja_ , you’re right. What do you want to know?” 

“Yay!” Jean shook her fists victoriously. “Hmm…what DO I wanna know…” 

“What’s ‘I love you’ in Italian?” Ororo blurted before Jean could think of something. Jean swatted her shoulder playfully. 

“I don’t know. I’ve never loved anyone in Italian.” Kurt replied, not missing a beat. “I really don’t know that much, just a few phrases.” 

“Well, how about you just go with something you do know?” Jean offered. 

“Um…” Kurt lowered his head in thought again, resting his chin on his knuckle. “ _Hai visto la mia bicicletta_?” The words are forced and chunky, and it’s unclear whether the questioning tone at the end was to signify that a question was asked, or that Kurt was seeking confirmation that he did in fact say something. 

Ororo and Jean exchanged glances. “Oh. That’s not sexy at all.” Jean finally said. 

Kurt shrugged and looked apologetic. “Well, it’s not supposed to be. I just asked if you’d seen my bicycle.” 

“How about in German?” Ororo asked. 

“Oh. Easy! _Hast du mein_ -” 

“We’re not talking about your bike, Kurt. We know you don’t own a bike.” Jean cut him off. “We’re asking if you can say something sexy in German.” Kurt tilted his head in confusion. “Like, how would you flirt with someone in German?” 

“Oh!” He tipped his head back when it finally sank in. “Ha. I wouldn’t. We don’t.” he replied, with a quick nod. 

“Then how do people in Germany get together? Is it like, drawing names out of a hat?” Jean pressed. 

“ _Nein_ , nothing like that. What I mean is we don’t do the silly pickup lines and that sort of thing. Like in American movies. It just isn’t common.”

__“__ How does it work? Say, you meet a pretty young woman and you want her to know you’re interested. What, then?” Ororo asked, leaning in expectantly. Jean shot her a look and smiled. 

Kurt paused to think. “Well, I’d probably look at her, but not too much, because that’s off-putting. Obviously, as with anything, punctuality is important…” He trailed off, and Jean and Ororo exchanged confused glances. “Oh! I’d probably asked her about something she’s interested in. Because it’s important to show you are interested in what interests them.” 

“Wow. That sounds boring and complicated.” Jean said flatly. 

“Well, obviously it works some of the time. There are millions of Germans, _nicht wahr_?” Kurt insisted. Ororo tried to suppress a laugh, and Kurt quickly turned to her. “Well, how was it so different in Egypt?” 

Ororo raised an eyebrow. “Maybe a little less emphasis on punctuality.” 

“That’s a shame.” 

“Somehow, they manage.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “In general, Egypt is a conservative country, and many marriages are arranged. If I had living parents, then you couldn’t date me, but your mother could arrange for my hand in marriage through my father.” 

“Do you think that my mother screaming ‘Just take him! I’m sick of tripping over him and he eats too much!’ would be good enough?” Kurt grinned and crossed his arms. 

“Hmm. Maybe if I was older or if I had many siblings…” Ororo responded thoughtfully, before adding, “However, as an orphaned street urchin, I had no such restrictions. I was free to do as I pleased.” 

“Well, that explains the pirate.” Jean quipped. Ororo nodded once in agreement. “Thank God I was born in the U. S. of A. and don’t have to deal with all that!” 

Kurt and Ororo gawked at each other before turning towards Jean. “What are you talking about? Dating in this country is ridiculous!” Ororo said accusingly. 

“It is so awkward and dramatic, with all the rules and absurd pick-up lines!” Kurt insisted. 

“No wonder there are so many Romance movies and TV shows here! It’s entertaining to view from the outside, at least!” Ororo added. Kurt nodded in agreement. “At the rental store, they should move to Romance section to the space in between the Horror and Science Fiction films. Because they are equally off-putting and impractical.” 

Jean screwed her face up in confusion. “Neither of you have dated an American, so you don’t know what you’re talking about!” 

“Well, I guess I should go spend a few hours sitting alone in a restaurant, waiting for an American gentleman to approach me and ask if I have a mirror in my pocket, because he can see himself in my pants.” Ororo crossed her arms smugly, daring Jean to respond. 

Kurt snickered. “My personal favorite is ‘Did it hurt? When you fell from Heaven?’ because it implies that the person being asked that is possibly Satan.” Jean stared at him stone-faced. “You know? Satan? A fallen angel? The Prince of Hell?” 

Jean shook her head in disapproval. “I get it. And you’re both being difficult.” Ororo rolled her eyes. “Besides, Scott and I are American _and_  dating, _and_ it isn’t weird at all.” 

“Perhaps not for the two of you, but honestly it has been _very_  awkward for the rest of us!” Ororo pointed out with a sweep of her hand. 

“ ** **Excuse me****!?” 

“Umm…” Kurt spun back towards the plane’s control panel and gestured towards a large square blue button as Jean and Ororo stared each other down. “Now if everyone could please direct your attention towards the new ‘Autopilot’ button…” 

******

 

“Fuck…don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop…” Jubilee breathed, with her eyes clenched shut and her head tipped back. She was somewhat precariously perched in the corner of a waist-high bookshelf in the far end of the school’s deserted library. Her denim miniskirt was somewhere around her waist. One neon-sneaker-clad foot was tiptoe on the floor, while the other trembling limb was propped up on the third shelf of the bookcase. Peter knelt on the floor between them, using one hand to help keep her leg propped up, and his other hand and his tongue to do things that felt amazing and sounded _fucking obscene _.__   

“Omigawdomigawdomigod…” she muttered under her breath as she clenched fistfuls of his hair even tighter with both hands. He had told her-so many times before- that it was essentially impossible for her to pull it too hard. Now, though, she was starting to think she might rip it out and take half his scalp with it. However, it only seemed to encourage him. He moaned under her attention and seemed to redouble his efforts, and she could only groan wordlessly in response. 

She had had guys go down on her before, but none had displayed this kind of naked enthusiasm. She was so close, _sofuckingclose _,__  that she could only gasp through gritted teeth while her eyes rolled almost all the way back into her head. That is, until she heard the familiar shuffle of footsteps approaching. She utilized every ounce of self control she had in order to relinquish her grip on Peter’s hair. “Hey!” she hissed to him. “Someone’s coming!” 

“Hmm, I bet someone is…” he mumbled, undeterred, from between her legs. 

She gave him a quick swat on the back of his head. “No, you tool, someone is actually in the library!” 

“Oh, shit!” He quickly stood up, and Jubilee hopped off the book case. They were both in the process of getting their hair and clothes back in a presentable order when Scott walked into view. 

“Uh, hi guys.” Scott said innocently, with his hands stuffed in his pockets. 

“Hey!” Jubilee and Peter responded in unison. 

“Not interrupting anything, am I?” Scott asked, slightly less innocently. 

“No, dude. Just reading. You know how it is.” Peter insisted, picking up the first book he saw. Jubilee nodded in agreement. 

“Huh. Whatcha reading?” Scott pressed. His hands were still in his pockets, and his head was slightly tilted. 

“Oh! Um…” Peter stared at the book he had picked up, turning it over in his hands. “ _Moby-Dick_. It’s, um…” He gawked at the plain book cover, searching for clues to it’s meaning. “some, like, really old-timey gay erotica. A classic.” Jubilee blushed and stared at the floor. 

“I see…” Scott nodded slightly. “That’s about a whale, right?” 

“A whale…of a dick, am I right?” Peter exclaimed with a broad grin, as he elbowed Jubilee. She looked away in embarrassment. “It was really progressive for it’s time.” he added solemnly. 

Scott sighed and crossed his arms, giving up the charade. “Jesus Christ, guys, this is a library.” 

“Yep. Sure is.” Jubilee agreed. 

“It’s a place of learning.” Scott reiterated. 

“Sure. That’s why all the books.” Peter also agreed, sweeping his arms around to demonstrate the stacks of books.         

“You both have your own bedrooms. I don’t understand why we even need to have this conversation.” Scott continued, sighing in frustration. 

“Well, you could try just minding your own business, and then we wouldn’t have to!” Jubilee snapped defiantly. She crossed her arms and leaned back against the bookshelf. 

Scott’s glasses only partially hid his extreme frustration, as he grit his teeth and gripped his head with both hands briefly before running his fingers through his hair. He looked around him, perhaps searching for some sort of alternate reality where he doesn’t have to deal with this bullshit all the time. “When you do things in public, they’re everyone’s business!” he finally whisper-yelled at his teammates. When they stared back at him blankly, he shook his head and sighed wearily. “Anyway, the only reason I’m even here is to tell you guys we have some chores to do.” 

“Aw, man!” Peter complained childishly. Jubilee poked him and he straightened up. 

“It’s not even anything hard. The school librarian is on vacation, so we just have to put some returned books away. It’ll only take a couple hours.” 

Jubilee shrugged and started walking towards Scott. Peter brandished his new-found copy of _Moby-Dick_. “More like it’ll take a couple _seconds_  now that I’m involved! Lemme just toss this one back in the ol’ Erotica section, and I’ll be right with ya…”   

Jubilee turned to Peter and scoffed. “Pretty sure this _school library_  doesn’t have an Erotica section…” 

Peter sped to her position and casually tossed an arm across her shoulder. “Oh, Jubes,” he sighed wistfully. “Every library has an Erotica section- it’s just sometimes located behind some ceiling tiles or inside an old hollowed-out _Encyclopedia Britannica_ …” 

Jubilee smiled and shook her head. Scott motioned in the direction of the returned-books pile and walked ahead of them. He looked back at Peter. “That book IS actually about a whale, by the way. Nothing remotely erotic about it.” 

Peter stopped in his tracks and scoffed indignantly. “Pfft! Then why would they call it _Moby-Di _-”__ he started, as he opened the book and started flipping through the pages. He turned a page every half second or so, and his eyes flicked almost imperceptibly fast over the words. “Huh. No shit.” 

Scott smiled despite himself and waved them onward. When it was all said and done, it took them five minutes to put the books away the first time, and an additional twenty minutes to relocate the ones that Peter had put away, and put them away correctly. Scott had to admit that he was impressed with how quickly they were finished, and with the amount of free time it bought them. Especially since it turned out that the ‘Erotica section’ was located under a false panel on the bottom row of a bookshelf stacked with old periodicals.   

“This porno stash is just _shameful_ ,” Peter groaned as he pulled old magazines and other ‘literature’ out from the hidden cubbyhole. “Like, this is literally just the woman’s underwear section of a Sears catalog.” The three of them were huddled on the floor next to the secret stash, giggling and joking at what they had found.   

“I don’t know about that. Here’s a _Penthouse_ …” Scott pointed out. He picked the ancient, dog-eared magazine up by the corner of the binding. He glanced over the cover, which featured a busty blonde hippie-looking girl in a barely-there blouse. When he moved to open the magazine, however, a conspicuous crunching sound was heard, and a large chunk of the magazine snapped off. Scott’s lap was peppered with flakes of disintegrated paper and unspeakable other things, the magazine having been rendered unreadable by years of ‘service.’ “Ugh!! Gross!!” he cried out, and dramatically started sweeping off his lap and pushing the decayed magazine away, as Peter and Jubilee laughed hysterically at him. 

When Scott had managed to dust himself off, Jubilee poked the remains of the _Penthouse_  with a pencil. “Why’s this stuff so old, anyways? This building isn’t even two years old.” 

“Well, younger guys usually inherit a porno stash from, like, their older brother or cousin or something. Then, when you’re old enough to buy your own porn, you pass it along to someone else who needs it.” Scott explained. Jubilee eyed him skeptically. 

“He’s right. This kinda stuff gets passed down from generation to generation. It’s a time-honored tradition.” Peter added, as Scott nodded thoughtfully. 

“Well, could the previous generations have considered throwing a girl a bone, here? Like, a _Playgirl_  or something? I haven’t seen a single dick in this entire smut hole.” Jubilee complained, as she unfolded the centerfold of a seventies-era _Hustler_.   

“There might be a separate stash for those kinda magazines. You’ll just have to look harder.” Scott offered.   

“Check this out, Jubes! Is this more your style?” Peter tossed a well-worn paperback book at Jubilee, and fished several more out of the far reaches of the cubbyhole. 

Jubilee caught the book, and looked it over. It’s title was _The Story of O_. _Delta of Venus_  and _Tropic of Cancer_  lay at her feet, among others . “Yes!” she squealed, gathering the books into her arms. “Chick porn!” 

Peter and Scott glanced at each other. “It’s so weird how girls get off to books that don’t even have pictures.” Scott said with a small chuckle. 

Jubilee scoffed. “Yeah, it’s so weird how the most sensual part of a woman is actually her brain, whereas guys can’t even jerk off without reminding themselves what a boob looks like.” She waved her hand across the collection of ‘gentleman’s magazines’ they had discovered. 

“Oh. _Touché_.” Scott said with brief frown. 

“Plus,” she added with a chipper grin, “once I pass this literature around to the other girls - your girlfriend included - they’re all gonna be horny, and you’ll be thanking me!” 

Scott looked down and smiled bashfully. “I, uh, hadn’t considered that.” Peter reached over and poked his ribs in jest. He twisted away and slapped at Peter’s hands with a brief laugh before straightening up and adding, “Don’t you think it’s a little cruel to get Ororo all worked up if she doesn’t have anyone to, you know, get her back down?” 

Jubilee crossed her arms smugly. “Bold of you to assume a woman ever needs a man’s help with that.” 

Scott blushed intensely and looked down with a smirk. “Ah. Say no more.” 

Peter glared at Scott and leaned towards him to whisper “Dude, shut your mouth!” He turned to Jubilee and laced his hands together in his lap. “Don’t listen to him. Say more. Say _lots_  more!” 

Jubilee thumbed idly through one of her books. “Nah. Girl code.” Peter put his face in his hands and groaned in frustration as she laughed at him.

“Speaking of which, we should probably pack this away before someone finds the three of us sitting on a big stack of crusty old girly mags.” Scott pointed out. The other two nodded begrudgingly and started packing up the stash into it’s hiding place. 

“So, like, obviously we’re not gonna rat out the porno stash, right?” Peter asked. 

“Of course not. If anything, we should be sworn to secrecy, and pledge to defend this gross smut pile at all costs.” Jubilee said with a determined nod. “A code of conduct- a _Porn Code_ , if you will…” 

“Like the Girl Code, but somehow with _more_  boobs.” Scott mused. “I like it.” 

“So, are we doing this?” Jubilee asked. Scott and Peter both nodded, and she maneuvered herself so she was sitting cross-legged between them. She crossed her arms at the chest, and extended one hand towards each of them, pinky fingers extended. After a brief hesitation, the two guys linked their pinky fingers with hers. “Alright, gentlemen. In accordance with the Porn Code, I propose that we pack up this smut, wash our hands, and never breath a word of this to another living soul.” 

They all shook their hands together once, with Scott saying “Agreed.” and Peter offering and enthusiastic “Hell yes!” 

They left the secret stash exactly as they found it, except that it had lost several classic erotic novels and gained a copy of _Moby-Dick_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is also the title of the 1985 song by 'Til Tuesday. It's also something to keep in mind when gettin' it on in a public space...  
> Also, I promise that I am done making fun of Moby-Dick. For a while, anyways.


	17. She Bop, He Bop, We Bop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls do some filing. The boys get down and dirty in Peter's room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another light 'hanging out' chapter. Some discussion of sex and violence.

“So, Scott tells me you found an old porno stash in the library?” 

“Fuckin’ snitch!” 

The girls sat around a table in the empty downstairs common area, opening applications for enrollment and sorting them by age and whether they were domestic or foreign. It was another one of the chores they had been assigned. It had been a relaxing, yet boring, afternoon until Jean dropped that little tidbit of information. Jubilee continued ripping open envelopes with unmasked aggression. 

“It’s not like I give a crap. He just blurted it out.” Jean attempted to calm Jubilee. “I think it’s like, he knows I can read minds, so he’s always outright stating things he thinks might piss me off. Cuz he thinks he’s going to get in trouble with me or something. I told him not to do that, but he keeps doing it anyways. It’s always stupid shit I couldn’t care less about, but still…” 

“Okay, rad, whatever. Nevermind that we swore ourselves to secrecy…” Jubilee continued to seethe. “I suppose he also told you about the other thing he ruined?” 

“No?” 

“He walked in on me and Peter, totally wrecked the mood…” Jubilee threw her arms up in exasperation. “I was, like, _thiiis _close__ …” she added, holding her thumb and finger millimeters apart. 

Ororo, who had been quietly observing this exchange up until this point, gasped. “Scott just walked into your bedroom without knocking?!” 

“Oh, no. This was in the library.” Jubilee confirmed. Ororo raised an eyebrow and stared back wordlessly. “There’s, like, a bookshelf in the far corner that is, like, ideal for getting the right angle for a guy to go down on you…” Ororo continued to stare silently, but narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. “We had all our clothes on. It was classy, I swear.” 

Jean shook her head and sighed. “If you’re doing it in the library, it’s because you want to get caught.” 

Jubilee opened her mouth to argue, but Ororo spoke up first. “Now, technically, I agree with Jean. But Scott is forming something of a reputation for himself.” Jean and Jubilee turned to her in confusion. “You see, I was chatting with Kurt last night, and it has become apparent that Scott has cockblocked me.” 

Jean pulled back in bewilderment. “Um, what? Are you sure you’re using that word correctly?” 

Ororo nodded calmly. “Yes, I’m certain. Kurt was telling me about how Scott has been trying to set up a double-date with between you and him and Kurt and I, but has done so in such an oafish way that it poisoned Kurt to the whole idea.” 

Jubilee looked impressed. “That is, indeed, a cockblock. Excellent use of American lingo.” 

“Thank you.”   

“Okay, so, first of all,” Jean started, as she tossed her hair behind her shoulder indignantly, “you’ve been doing an excellent job of cockblocking yourself. I swear to God the only way you’re getting in that guy’s pants is if you steal his laundry.” Ororo crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair, stone-faced. “Secondly-” 

“Nope. ‘Ro’s right.” Jubilee interrupted. “Scott is basically some kind of anti-sex force. He just floats around, ruining everyone’s sex life everywhere he goes…” Jean scoffed angrily but could not formulate a coherent response. 

“We should probably tell Raven that we don’t actually need Sex Ed now. We know Scott Summers, so it would just be a waste of resources.” Ororo added with a wave of her hand. 

“Ha! Scott Summers- betrayer of Porn Codes, ruiner of orgasms, blocker of cocks!” Jubilee cried gleefully, waving her arms about dramatically. Ororo burst into laughter along with her, while Jean scowled with her arms crossed. When the laughter died down, Jubilee wiped a single giggle-induced tear from her eye with a sigh. “Oh, man. If that’s the effect he has on people _around_  him, I can’t even imagine what actually having to fuck him is like…” 

Jean stared daggers at Jubilee. “It’s _fine _.__ ” 

“Ooh! High praise.” 

“He’s not bad at sex! Not by a long shot!” Jean insisted. 

“If that’s the case, why does he have to come up with a complicated, multi-step plan to get you in the backseat of a car with him?” Ororo asked, lacing her fingers together on the table. Jean turned to her quizzically. 

“Let’s face it. If you two made made your own porno, it would only be rated PG thirteen.” Jubilee said, as she twirled her pigtail around her finger. “For mature themes and brief nudity.” 

“Possibly coarse language, depending on whether he refers to your breasts as ‘boobs’ or ‘tits.’” Ororo quickly added, prompting Jubilee to high-five her. 

“Oh, come on!” Jean snapped angrily. “You know it’d be a fantastic porno, and you’d watch the hell out of it!” 

Jubilee sighed and gave a small shrug. “Yeah, you’re right. But only because, as your friend, I support your artistic undertakings.” 

“Thank you.” Jean smiled and went back to ripping open envelopes for a few seconds, until her head snapped up. “So, ‘Ro, how exactly was it that Scott apparently cockblocked you? I wasn’t aware things had progressed to the point where there was anything to, uh, block…” 

“Oh!, well…” Ororo set down the stack of applications she had been sorting. “We had a nice long chat last night. He helped me with my homework, and we talked about other things. He told me about Scott’s failed attempt to set up a double-date, but we did hug, so that’s a step forward!” 

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but Kurt’s kinda a hug slut. He hugs everyone. It might be part of his religion.” Jubilee said plainly before blowing a bright-pink bubble with her gum. 

Jean nodded in agreement. “I hugged him last week. I can’t even remember why.” 

Jubilee popped her bubble and wrangled the gum back into her mouth. “You two and me and Peter were playing a pick-up volleyball game and you won. It was a celebration hug.” 

“Oh, right! We kicked your asses!” 

“Yeah, by a little bit.” 

“Like, we totally mopped the floor with you.” 

“Okay, lay off. That’s not the point.” 

Ororo looked somewhat dismayed. “Does Scott know about this?” 

Jean leaned back with a scoff. “Uh, yeah? He was there. He didn’t give a fuck. It’s _Kurt._ ” 

“You see,” Jubilee leaned into the table, moving her hands over it’s surface as she explained, “a hug from Kurt is so innocent and non-sexual that he can hug a chick right in front of her boyfriend, and the boyfriend’s gonna be like ‘Where’s my hug?’” Jean tipped her hand towards Jubilee in agreement. 

“Well, this was a different sort of hug. It was intense, as hugs go.” Ororo insisted. 

“How? Did he have a boner or something?” Jubilee pressed. 

“How should I know? We were both sitting.” Ororo shrugged dismissively. “I was upset about something and he comforted me.” 

“For the last time, ‘Ro, if your English homework is stressing you that much, just let us help! Stop being stubborn!” Jubilee cried in frustration. 

“I wasn’t upset about my English homework…” 

“Besides, comforting upset people is basically Kurt’s _thing_. He can’t let an upset person go uncomforted.” Jean pointed out. “Doesn’t mean he’s gonna bang them.” 

“Huh, speak of the devil…” Jubilee peered up and over Ororo and into the adjacent hallway. Well out of earshot and barely visible in the hallway’s dim light, Kurt had just materialized out of a cloud of smoke in front of a utility closet. He appeared to be pulling a broom and assorted cleaning supplies out of it, unaware that he was being stared at by the three girls. Jubilee stood and gave Ororo’s shoulder a quick pat as she walked past. “Check this out…” 

Jean and Ororo looked on as Jubilee walked up to Kurt, who was distracted by contents of the utility closet. She got his attention by tugging at his wrist, and starting talking to him about something that shifted his body language from friendly to concerned. He grew more concerned as the conversation continued, eventually setting a hand on Jubilee’s shoulder. When she finished talking and dropped her arms to her sides, he leaned down to pull her into a firm hug- complete with a quick shoulder pat. After several seconds, they separated and he kept his hand on her shoulder as they exchanged several more words. Finally, she waved to him, and he apparently noticed the other girls for the first time and waved to them as well, before grabbing his supplies and teleporting away. 

Jubilee jogged back over to the table with a bright grin. Ororo glared in silent irritation. “Okay, so, what did we just witness?” Jean demanded. 

“Oh, nothing. I just told Kurt that my parents told me that my cat was sick, and that I was worried about it.” Jubilee inspected her nails and tried to look nonchalant. “He has long arms and smells like a campfire! I mean Kurt - not my cat.” 

“Lying about emotional turmoil to manipulate others into physical affection? That’s a little low.” Jean pointed out. “I mean, it’s not ‘getting eaten out in the library’ low, but it’s still low.” 

“I actually count the library thing as a ‘high,’ thankyouverymuch.” Jubilee leaned back and laced her hands behind her head. 

“So you didn’t also tell Peter that your cat was sick?” Ororo deadpanned. 

Jubilee shot her a look, but decided not to go there. “Besides, it wasn’t technically a _lie_ \- Mittens is, like, over twenty years old. He’s always walking that line between ’could die any day now’ and ‘actually immortal.’” 

“Well, you can keep your ill-gotten hug.” Ororo snapped accusingly. “I also have a _date on Saturday._ ” 

Jean and Jubilee looked at each other in shock. “Oh, wow, okay! That’s exciting!” Jean exclaimed, “Probably should have lead with that! I thought you said you were cockblocked?” 

“Well, Scott only blocked one specific date that Kurt told me about. I managed to redirect that into a different date. A _movie date._ ” Ororo explained proudly. 

Jubilee grinned excitedly. “Ooh! What movie? Which theater?” 

Ororo shrugged. “The _Frankenstein_  movies. Here. Likely in the TV room over there.” She pointed to a room several doors up the hall. 

Jubilee cringed and looked downwards. Jean crossed her arms with a skeptical look. “…And you’re sure this counts as a date?” 

“Oh, quite sure.” Ororo insisted, before frowning slightly. “At least sixty percent sure.” 

Jean shook her head woefully and sighed. “Oh, ‘Ro.” 

Jubilee smirked and nodded enthusiastically. “Hmm, okay, those are good numbers.” She turned to Ororo and propped her head up on her hand with her elbow on the table. “So if you’re sixty percent sure it’s a date, I’m assuming that means you’re forty percent okay with me tagging along?” 

“Oh no! Don’t even think of it! I am zero percent okay with that!” Ororo glowered at Jubilee and gripped the sides of the table. She pointed at Jubilee accusingly. “And if I see you, I will one hundred percent throw you into the hallway!” Jubilee just laughed maniacally. 

“’Ro, please,” Jean pleaded, “please just give up. It’s not gonna happen. Go meet a guy at, like, the farmer’s market or the library or something…” Ororo shot Jubilee a side-glance. “Not our library! The big public library in town.” 

Ororo shook her head. “No, sorry. I feel like I’m in too deep to turn back now.” 

Jubilee stared at her, deadpan. “You are _in_ nothing. You have accomplished _nothing._ ” 

Ororo half-smiled and looked down. “I don’t see it that way. He’s like no man I’ve ever met. I just can’t help but have the impression that if I stick with it, it’ll be worth it in the long run.” 

Jean sighed wearily and tore open another envelope. “Well, you’re a trooper.” 

The girls busied themselves with their paperwork in relative silence for the next several minutes. Suddenly, Jean paused and leaned back in her chair, with her hands still full of applications. 

“Wait. So tell me again how you being cockblocked relates back to Scott trying to get me in a car? Cuz I missed that part.” 

Ororo put a paperclip on her stack of files and took a deep breath. “Well, according to Kurt, Scott proposed a double-date with the four of us, where we would all go to the Drive-In. The primary motivation, however, was that I be there to keep the weather in check, because apparently you have turned down the Drive-In as a date location in the past for this reason.” she explained carefully. “The only reason Kurt was invited was to keep me from getting bored.” 

“Wow. Smooth, Scott.” Jubilee added sarcastically. 

“Well, I mean, have you ever been to the Drive-In when it starts raining? It’s a pain in the ass!” Jean insisted. “You can’t see the screen, you have to leave the wipers on, you can’t hear anything, you get soaked buying snacks or going to the bathroom- it’s a mess!” 

Jubilee rolled her eyes. “Jean, the Drive-In isn’t about the cinematic experience. It’s about giving a handjob while watching a trash movie about a bunch of sexy teenagers getting killed by an ax murderer.” 

Jean cringed and shook her head. “I have a perfectly good bedroom for that.” 

“Yes, but maybe Scott would rather do that in the car at the Drive-In. Men sometimes have weird quirks about things like that.” Ororo explained delicately. 

“I mean, it’s not even that weird! Sex and cars are linked in movies, songs, urban legends about ax murderers…” Jubilee added. “Like, have you ever seen a picture of a muscle car that didn’t have a big-boobed bikini girl draped across it? _Lots_  of men file sex and cars under the same category.” 

Jean leaned back and crossed her arms, deep in thought. “Hmm…it would explain some things, “ she said, bring her hand up to tap her chin with one finger. “and it never hurts to spice things up a bit.” 

“I’ve said the _same thing_ about plain oatmeal.” Jubilee quipped. Jean swatted at her ineffectually. 

“Shush. I’m thinking.” Jean whispered. The other girls leaned closer in anticipation. “The thing is, I don’t really wanna get it on at the Drive-In. There are a ton of other people there.” 

“They all have their own ‘business’ to attend to, Jean.” Ororo pointed out. 

“Noted. Regardless, not really my thing.” Jean waved her hand dismissively. “Now, that said, if Scott’s got a thing about sex and cars, I can still use that.” She paused in thought for about a second, before snapping her fingers dramatically. “I got it! It’s easy- I’ll just give him road head!” 

Jubilee and Ororo looked in each other as their expressions shifted into dismay. “Nooo! You can’t!” Ororo cried. 

“We won’t let you!” Jubilee added, equally distraught. 

“It’s not safe! Please, PLEASE, promise you’ll never do that!” Ororo begged, reaching across the table to grip Jean’s forearm.   

Jean scratched her head and looked at the other two girls in confusion. “What’s the big deal?” 

“It’s just- you’re too pretty to choke to death on a severed dick.” Jubilee blurted. “We love you too much to let that happen.” Ororo nodded in agreement. 

“Alright, now. _What the fuck_?” Jean demanded with a shocked expression. 

“Okay, so- story time.” Jubilee stated in all seriousness. She shifted in her chair to face Jean. “So this happened to the older sister of a girl who went to my cousin’s high school.” Jean immediately sunk her shoulders and rolled her eyes. “So this girl was riding along in her boyfriend’s hot rod, and she asks if he wants a blowjob. He obviously agrees, so she’s doing _that_ , and they’re driving along this twisty mountain road. Everything’s going awesome, until as soon as the guy, like, _finishes_  he stomps on the accelerator and they slam into the ditch at ninety miles an hour!” Jubilee punctuated this statement by thrusting her fist into the center of the table. 

“That’s over a hundred and forty kilometers per hour. That’s very fast.” Ororo added helpfully. 

Jubilee nodded solemnly and continued. “So anyway, the force of the impact snapped her jaw shut, which severed her boyfriend’s cock instantly! It got lodged down her throat and she choked to death!” Jubilee paused for dramatic effect. Jean stared back flatly. “Also, her boyfriend bled to death!” Another pause. Still no reaction. “The coroner had to fish the severed dick out of her throat, and the funeral director just tucked it into the front pocket of the suit the boyfriend was buried in.” Jubilee leaned back in her chair, awaiting a reaction of some form. 

Jean pressed her palms together and stared intently at Jubilee. “This is some made-up, urban-legend bullshit.” 

“Not true! I heard a similar story when I was in Egypt. Some of the details were different, but the overall conclusion was equally tragic.” Ororo pointed out. “It’s a global epidemic.” 

“I’m positive it’s bullshit.” Jean reiterated. “Besides, Scott is a great driver.” 

Jubilee sighed in exasperation. “Jean- when a guy’s getting blown, they can’t even control the sounds that are coming out of their own mouths! What makes you think they can watch a speedometer or the center line?” 

“Also, you have to admit that he doesn’t have the greatest track record in this department…” Ororo added tentatively. 

Jean tipped her head back and covered her face with her hands, groaning loudly in exasperation. Jubilee reached out and gently placed her hand on Jean’s elbow. “Look, it’s not like we’re saying you shouldn’t do sex stuff in cars- if you wanna bang Scott in a parking lot, we think that’s fine.” 

“We actually encourage it.” Ororo added. 

“Just please, _please_ , promise us that you won’t attempt sex in a moving vehicle.” 

Jean, who still had her face covered and her head tipped back, groaned even louder than before. “Ugh. Fine.” 

“Yay!” Jubilee and Ororo threw their arms up and cheered. 

Jean rolled her eyes went back to sorting applications. Ororo smiled to herself. “And that, ladies, is what they call ‘practicing safe sex.’” 

“Hmm. Sounds about right.” Jean said, as she started opening the last stack of envelopes. “So what do we have going on after this? We’re nearly done of this file sorting.” 

“Oh, I don’t know. I might go for a walk or do some light gardening. You?” Ororo replied. Jean gave a noncommittal shrug. 

“Oh! Oh! I know what we’re doing! I got something for you!” Jubilee dropped her paperwork and rubbed her hands together excitedly. She pulled a bag up from the floor and dumped her collection of erotic novels into the center of the table. “Take your pick! This was, like, the best thing to come out of that porno stash that we found.” 

Jean and Ororo each picked up books and looked them over. “ _Lady Chatterley’s Lover_? Isn’t this supposed to be somewhat…adult?” Jean asked, eyebrow raised. She started flipping though random pages, scanning through words. “Huh. Yes. Yes it is.” 

“It was from a porno stash, Jean. Figure it out.” 

“This one is a collection of short stories. And it’s written by a woman. That’s interesting.” Ororo read the back cover of _Delta of Venus_.    

Jean tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Maybe _don’t_ do a book report on that one, ‘Ro.” They both snickered. 

“So that should keep us occupied.” Jubilee motioned towards the pile of books. “Just don’t read them all at once.” she said with an impish smirk. “We don’t wanna flood the place.”

 

******

 

“Peter, why do you live like this?” 

“Dude, what are you on about? Didn’t you grow up in a trailer?” 

“It was a caravan, and it was _never_ this filthy.” 

The three guys stood just inside the doorway of Peter’s room. Kurt and Scott marveled at the level of clutter and general grunginess Peter had managed to accumulate in a relatively short period of time. 

“Ugh. It feels like a basement in here. First thing, we gotta open up some windows and let some air and light in…” Scott carefully traversed the minefield of Peter’s floor to open the windows and drapes. “I don’t know how you did it. This is a third floor bedroom with two windows. How’d it get so dank and mildewy?” 

“It’s not that bad, man. Nothin’ a little breeze won’t fix…” Peter rationalized and started picking up some empty soda cans. Kurt scoffed and started poking a pile of clothes on the floor with his foot. 

“It’s like- you lived in a basement for so long, that now you have this aura of ‘basement’ around you…” Scott mumbled, mainly to himself. 

“Is that why your hair is like that? Because you never saw the sun?” Kurt asks Peter in a serious tone. Peter wasn’t sure if he’s joking or not. 

“Yeah! Like one of those blind, albino cave fish that Hank told us about…” Scott laughed. 

“C’mon, guys…” Peter pleaded. 

“Perhaps it is only by the grace of God that you even have eyes…” Kurt added solemnly, before smirking ever-so-slightly. 

“Guys…” 

“Remind me again why we agreed to this? This is seriously gonna take us until dinner time.” Scott turned to Peter with his arms crossed, looking around the room. The increased light only highlighted an extra later of dust and grime. 

“I was just thinking that, like, the girls have their ‘Girl Code,’ and they’re always helping each other out…” Peter attempted to explain, “I just thought it would be good if we had something similar.” 

“I am one hundred percent positive that the girls all clean their own rooms.” 

“Yeah, but like, think about it…” Peter argued, “the ‘Girl Code’ is, like, twenty percent lending each other makeup and tampons and shit…” he turned his left hand palm-upwards, and then his right, “eighty percent helping each other get laid.” He gestured at the expanse of his room. “This counts as helping me get laid.” 

“Ugh…” Scott’s shoulders slumped in frustration. 

“Well, at the very least, we can get this laundry sorted out. Where is your laundry hamper?” Kurt had started using his tail and feet to push the assorted bits of discarded clothes into a pile on the floor. 

“My _what_?” 

“Hmm. Okay, then…” Kurt wrung his hands and looked downwards. “Is this clean or dirty?” he asked, holding up a pair of gray jeans with his tail. 

“Dunno. Does it pass the smell test?” 

Kurt frowned. “It’s dirty. This is all dirty.” He dropped the jeans and dusted his hands off, despite not having touched anything. “I’m going to get us some supplies. Trash bags, a broom, some rags, cleaning solution… I’ll be back.” He disappeared with a loud ‘BAMF’ and a burst of dark smoke. 

“Great. Now it smells like sulfur.” Peter complained. 

“Frankly, that’s an improvement.” Scott pointed out. 

Scott walked around Peter’s room, picking up trash and throwing crumpled clothing into the pile that Kurt had started. Peter started stripping the sheets off his bed and throwing it into the pile as well. Eventually, Scott took a deep breath. 

“So…” he started tentatively, “when I walked in on you and Jubes this morning, were you guys doing what I think you were doing?” He kept his attention directed towards the clutter on Peter’s desk. 

“Dude, I said I was sorry!” Peter exclaimed, with a pillowcase clutched in his fist. “Well, I mean, I didn’t, and I’m not, but the point is that I thought we moved on past that.” 

“Oh, no! I’m not mad! I’m just asking…” Scott held his hands up in a show of non-hostility. 

“Oh, okay.” Peter shrugged and threw the pillowcase into the laundry pile. “Well, in that case, _fuck yeah_  I was going down on her!” 

Scott tried to nod casually, his expression made unreadable by his glasses. “So, like, d’ya think most girls are into that?” 

“As long as you do it right, hell yeah!” Peter replied enthusiastically. “I mean, nothing is _everyone’s_ cup of tea, but the vast majority of women, sure!” 

Scott nodded again, his attention still purposefully directed towards Peter’s desk. Close inspection would reveal a creeping blush over his face and neck. “So is there, like, a _preferred technique_ , or…” 

Peter’s eyes lit up and a broad grin spread across his face. He clenched his fists in excitement. “Holy shit! _Holy shit!_   _You’re_  asking _me_  for sex advice!” he rambled. “I knew this day would come!” 

Scott’s expression fell flat and he dropped his arms to his sides. “If you’re just going to make fun of me, then this conversation is over.” 

“Oh! Nonono! Don’t be like that! I’m not gonna make fun of you.” Peter pleaded. He walked around to the other side of his bed and perched on the edge of now-bare mattress, and patted the area next to him. “I’m being totally honest, I wanna help you. C’mere.” 

Scott reluctantly sat next to Peter. “You’re sure? This isn’t, like, weird for us to talk about?” 

“Sure I’m sure! I’d love to provide you with the knowledge required for you to get your girlfriend off.” 

Scott frowned. “Yep, it’s weird.” 

Peter waved him off. “Pfft. We’re weird, sex is weird, it’s all weird. Just deal with it.” 

Scott stared off for a moment and sighed. “You’re right. What do you know?” 

Peter grinned again and opened his mouth to speak, when he was interrupted by a loud burst of blue/black smoke. “Oh, right. Forgot about him.” he muttered to himself.    

Kurt set down the armload of cleaning supplies. “Sorry I took so long. I ran into Jubilation. Her cat is unwell.” He looked pointedly at Peter. “I comforted her as best as I could, but I’m not her boyfriend.” 

Peter gave a disinterested shrug. “ _I’m_  not her boyfriend.” 

Scott leaned closer to Peter and whispered, “So, are we gonna continue this later, or are we gonna, like, _earmuff_ him or what?” 

Kurt’s eyes darted between his two friends and around the room. “Why are you whispering? Are you talking about me? Do I need to be frightened?” 

Peter sat up straighter and appeared deep in thought. “Nope.” he finally declared. “He should hear this, too. Here’s what we’re gonna do…” He stood up and walked across his room, grabbing a pen and a large yellow pad of paper from under some clutter. He walked back to Kurt and tossed them into his hands. “Congratulations. You’re a secretary now.” 

Kurt perched in Peter’s desk chair with his new writing utensils. “I don’t understand.” 

“It’s easy. You’re gonna listen and write,” Peter pointed to Kurt, and then paced the room and pointed to Scott, “and you’re gonna listen and ask questions.” 

“Sounds good.” Scott confirmed, while Kurt mumbled in confusion. 

“Great. So if we’re all settled…” Peter walked around the space between his desk and his bed, as if he were some university lecturer, “Welcome to Introduction To Eating Chicks Out. One Oh One.” 

The next half-hour was an unrelenting onslaught of information about female anatomy and what to do with it. It started off simple enough:

 

“Going down on a girl is, basically, the best thing ever. When I die, I wanna get buried between some chick’s legs…” Peter explained, while Scott nodded in consideration and Kurt blushed purple and took notes.

 

As the lecture continued, it covered topics from the anatomical:

 

“Think of the clit as being about as sensitive as an eyeball. If your hands are a callused wreck, which they are, you might wanna stick to either using your tongue, or touching around it, rather than directly on it…” Peter continued to pace and moved his hands in an animated and detailed demonstration. “Side-to-side stimulation is generally better than up-and-down, but different strokes for different folks, haha!” Scott laughed along while Kurt blushed even harder and wrote furiously to keep up with Peter’s rambling lecture style. “The other thing, too, is that if you’re going to finger her while you’re doing this- use _at least_ two fingers. Use one finger and she probably won’t even feel it.” Peter paused and pointed at Kurt, “You’re, like, an exception, bro. You gotta stick to one finger or you might accidentally murder somebody.” Kurt gasped and looked down while writing even faster.

 

To the philosophical:

 

“The most important thing is to know when and where to go down on your girl.” Peter started on yet another tangent. “You don’t wanna spring it on her when she’s not mentally prepared, but you don’t want her to have to beg you, either. You gotta _read the room._ ” Kurt jotted notes and Scott nodded thoughtfully. “The _other_ most important thing is, like, the impression you give when you’re actually doing it. If you act grossed out or overwhelmed, she’ll know, and it’ll ruin the whole thing. This is true for everyone, but especially true for you, Summers, since Jean reads minds.” Scott nodded yet again in acknowledgement.    

“Peter…” Kurt said tentatively, the first word he’d spoken since this lesson started, “your last six points have all started with the statement ‘the most important thing.’ Which one is actually the most important?” 

Peter shrugged dramatically, letting his arms flop back down against his sides. “All of it! It’s all important! Haven’t you been listening?” 

Kurt appeared to edit the notes while mumbling angrily to himself. Scott raised his hand as if he were in an actual classroom. “Is there anything else? Or does that about cover it?” 

Peter paced once more. “Hmm. No, I think I covered the basics, unless you have any questions.” 

“Um, no. That was actually _shockingly_  thorough.” Scott glanced downwards in consideration, adding, “and very helpful. So, thank you.” 

Peter grinned. “Don’t mention it! This is just one of those things guys gotta help each other out with. Girls actually have it pretty good by comparison - it says how to suck a dick in almost every issue of Cosmo. Besides- if you guys help clean my room, we’ll call it even!” 

Scott smiled and hopped off the bed. “That’s fair.” 

“Now, Kurt, gimme those notes. I wanna make sure you got all the important stuff.” Peter held his hand out to Kurt expectantly. 

Kurt placed the pen and notepad into Peter’s hand, hopped off the chair, and wordlessly started busying himself with the laundry. Peter looked at the first page of the notepad, and started quickly flipping through all the pages. “This is basically illegible. And completely in German.” He threw the notepad and the pen onto the cluttered mess of his desk and put his hands on his hips. Kurt refused to look up from the laundry pile. “I don’t know what the fuck I expected.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is a line from Cyndi Lauper's classic 'She Bop' from 1983. It's a great song to enjoy alone, or with a friend...  
> Next chapter is the Sex Ed chapter, so get ready for some Health Class flashbacks!


	18. It’s A Bad Situation (Adult Education)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Hank have very different teaching styles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sex Ed class! Bananas! G-spots! Scabby dicks! Yelling!

“This is gonna suck so hard, you guys…” Jubilee groaned as she stretched over the back of her desk chair.   

“Ugh, I know. It is too early in the morning to be thinking about sex.” Jean mumbled into her arms, with her head down on the desk. 

“Unless you’re still up from the night before, am I right?” Jubilee added, snickering. Jean peeked up from her arms to stick her tongue out at her and smile. 

“Well, you two may have already taken this type of class, but I haven’t. I might learn something.” Ororo insisted. She had her notebook and pens arranged neatly on her desk. 

Jean sighed heavily and forced herself to sit upright. “No, you won’t, ‘Ro. Like, you said you already take birth control, right?” 

“...Yes?” 

“And you know what condoms are and how to use them?” Jubilee asked. 

“Of course.” 

“And, you’re not planning on using your mutant powers to rape anybody?” Jean continued, propping her head up on the desk with her hand. 

Ororo gasped. “Is that a _legitimate concern_!?” 

“I’ll assume that’s a ‘no.’” Jubilee stated flatly. Ororo gave a serious nod. “Then that’s it. That’s the whole class.” 

“You are qualified for sexual activity.” Jean gave Ororo a corny thumbs-up. 

“You have a license to fuck.” Jubilee added with a wink. 

Ororo slumped in her chair and crossed her arms, disappointed. “Then, why is it supposed to take all morning? As well as Monday morning?” 

Jubilee checked her watch and scoffed. “I dunno, but if Raven isn’t here in five minutes, I think we’re technically allowed to leave. She’s late.” 

“Jubes, if she gets here, and we’re not here, she will _hunt us down_.” Jean whispered harshly. 

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late,” Raven walked into the classroom and kicked the door shut behind her. She threw some keys and a coffee mug down on the teacher’s desk. “I, uh, didn’t really wanna come.” 

“Don’t worry about it. We’re kinda in the same boat.” Jubilee replied, without looking up from the margin-doodle she was adding to her notebook. “Why don’t we just all agree to _say_  we did Sex Ed class, but actually go to the arcade until lunch time? You can come, too.” 

“That would be a good plan _if_ we didn’t have to answer to the world’s most powerful telepath.” Raven leaned against the desk, crossing her arms and her legs at the ankle. She stared at the three young women, seated close together in the back row of the otherwise empty classroom. They each occupied themselves with some detail of their desk or belongings, avoiding looking up. She took a deep breath and sighed. “Look, guys, I know you think this is dumb. _I_ think it’s dumb. I mean, I’m sure you all got your periods by now, you’ve all seen some naked people, and none of your boobs are getting any bigger. But, we’re all here, and we all _gotta_  be here, so we may as well get some use out of it.” 

The girls seemed to straighten up in their desks, and at least appeared to be paying attention. Raven walked around the desk towards the chalkboard. “We have a list of topics we have to cover eventually, but before we dive into that, does anyone have any real pressing questions they’d like to get out of the way?” 

“Ooh! Ooh!” Jubilee thrust her hand skyward. “Ororo was never taught how to use a condom!” 

Ororo leaned towards Jubilee and whispered, “We just discussed this! I’m not an idio-” 

“Shh, shh, shh, no, no, no, just zip it!” Jubilee whispered back. “We’re gonna make Raven do the whole ‘banana-condom’ demonstration, and she’s gonna hate it, and it’s gonna be hilarious!” 

“Oooh!” Ororo winked at Jubilee when the realization dawned on her. “It’s true.” she stated plainly to Raven. “Such things were not spoken about in Egypt. It was a con-” 

“A conservative country? I know. You keep saying.” Raven crossed her arms again and tapped her foot, unimpressed. “I’m pretty sure if you can pick a lock, you can figure out how to put on a condom.” 

Ororo shrugged innocently. Jean raised her hand and spoke up. “We’re trying to prevent _unwanted teenage pregnancy_  here.” 

“Hmm-mm.” Raven nodded, completely deadpan. “So, I know Ororo’s twenty. So, mission accomplished. Go team.” 

Jubilee started pulling the contents of her purse onto her desk. “I mean, I have a condom right here in my purse. We just need a banana or something else…boner-shaped?” 

“I’ll grab one from the kitchen!” Jean offered, and hopped out of her desk. “Back in a flash!” she called out as she exited the room. 

Raven sighed yet again as they awaited Jean’s return from the kitchen. After a minute or two, she walked cheerfully into the classroom, bearing what could have been the largest cucumber ever grown in the state. Raven’s shoulder’s slumped and Ororo had to look down to keep from grinning. 

“Ohmigawd, Jean, I love you so much, you’re my favorite person…” Jubilee mumbled quietly under her breath. 

“We are _fresh out_  of bananas, apparently…” Jean offered with a shrug. “This was the only remotely-phallic thing in the fridge.” She handed the particularly-gifted vegetable to Raven. 

“I just gotta point out that if you girls think this is a accurate demonstration, then you’re in for a world of disappointment.” Raven said, brandishing the girthy produce. She tossed it at Ororo, who struggled to maintain a grip on it. “There. Go nuts.” 

“What am I supposed to do with this?” Ororo questioned, turning it over in her hands. 

Raven shrugged. “Put a condom on it? That’s the whole point of this demonstration. Jubilee has one for you right there.” She pointed at the foil wrapper Jubilee had set on the corner of her desk. 

“But you’re the teacher!” Jean argued. 

Raven sat on the side of a desk closer to the girls and crossed her legs. “Sure, but who gives a crap if _I_ can use a condom? This class is about you guys.” She looked down at her fingernails, idly making them change from clear to red, and back to clear again. “Besides, I don’t exactly have the best track record here. Case in point- you’ve all met my illegitimate kid. So, you go ahead. Give it your best shot, and we’ll critique you.” 

Ororo glanced at the people around her with uncertainty. Jean’s voice echoed in her head- * _This really backfired! I’m sorry!_ * Determined, she opened the condom wrapper and started the process of trying to roll the condom on with one hand while holding the anatomically-improbable prop with the other. This was made more difficult by the fact that it was one of those pre-lubricated condoms, and everything quickly became slippery. 

“This isn’t the type of thing I ever expected to do in front of an audience…” Ororo mumbled nervously as she struggled. “Almost…Goddess…ARG!” she growled as it slipped off, yet again. “Jean, this is your fault. You get over here and help me!” Jean scooted her desk closer to Ororo’s. “You hold this thing, and I’ll get the condom on…this is so cumbersome.” 

“You mean ‘cu-cumbersome.’” Jubilee corrected. 

Jean held the green monstrosity while Ororo was finally able to start rolling the condom on. They both snickered, finally able to see the humor in it. After a few more seconds, the task was completed. 

“Yay!” Jean held the well-protected cucumber up victoriously. 

“Teamwork!” Ororo exclaimed, and she and Jean high-fived.   

“Hmm. Okay. Looks good.” Raven snagged the cucumber and inspected it. “Just keep this in mind, ladies, if you’re ever with a guy who says he can’t wear condoms cuz his equipment’s too big…” 

“Just tell him you have to call in your hot friend for assistance. He’ll change his tune pretty quick!” Jubilee added, without missing a beat. 

“We are NOT making a habit of this!” Jean insisted in mock-seriousness, and pointed at Ororo while everyone laughed. 

“Now, does anyone have any other questions, before we continue?” Raven surveyed the room while Jubilee packed up her purse. 

“I have one!” Jean raised her hand in the air. Raven looked at her expectantly. “It’s for Jubes, though…” 

“Um, what?” Jubilee froze with her hand in her purse. 

“I just have to know what your everyday life is like, now that I see that you go everywhere with two tampons but three…four…five condoms?” Jean drummed her fingers on the desk, awaiting a response. 

“I mean, I’ve heard of wishful thinking, but that’s something else…” Ororo added. 

“Well, jeez guys…” Jubilee started, as she sorted her belongings back into her purse. “It’s just, like, better safe than sorry, right? Plus, they aren’t necessarily all for me…I like to carry a few backups in case one of my girls finds herself in a jam!” 

“Aw!” Ororo cooed, touching her hand to her chest adoringly. 

“The other things is that, like, sure- _some_  guys are smart enough to carry condoms around. But they all keep them in their wallets, and you specifically _aren’t_ supposed to keep them in a wallet!” Jubilee ranted. Jean and Raven nodded approvingly. “It’s like my grandmother always said- You can’t rely on a man for anything!” 

Raven snapped her fingers and pointed at Jubilee. “Yes! That’s…That’s good. Smart. That goes on the board.” She quickly walked to the chalkboard and started writing the sentence in big block letters. “I don’t hear writing, ladies! Write this down!” 

The girls wrote the single sentence at the top of their notebooks. Raven turned back around and leaned against the teacher’s desk. “Now, why didn’t I have a friend like that when I was your age…” she mused. 

“Was it because condoms weren’t invented yet?” Jubilee asked. 

“Not invent- Jesus, how old do you think I am?” 

“We don’t know. You don’t age.” Ororo admitted. 

“That’s fair, I guess.” Raven shrugged. 

“Honestly, and not to be a bitch here, I think it might have to do with you being the type of woman who has difficulty maintaining long-term friendships with other women. Possibly because the increased emotional complexity feels like a chore to you.”Jean explained calmly. 

“Well, that’s, uh…” Raven paused and looked down briefly. “That’s accurate, yeah.” 

Raven stared off blankly for an uncomfortably long time. The girls exchanged confused and concerned glances, until Jubilee got the courage to raise her hand. She had to wave it around a bit until Raven noticed it and looked in her direction. 

“I have a question, if that’s okay…” Jubilee said tentatively. 

“Hmm? Oh, right! Yeah, sure. Shoot.” Raven snapped back to reality. 

“This is, like, my go-to Sex Ed question…” 

“Sure. Let’s hear it.” 

“Oh, God.” Jean put her head in her hands. 

“It’s the question by which I will judge not only this entire class, but also every other thing you ever try to teach us…” 

“Spit it out, Lee” 

“So, is it possible…” Jubilee leaned back in her chair and held her hands out to frame the scenario, “for a guy to have a dick so big that he passes out every time he gets a boner?” 

Raven tried to suppress a scoff and looked around the room. Jean shook her head, which was still in her hands. Ororo crossed her arms and glared disapprovingly at Jubilee. Finally, Raven looked upwards in consideration before answering, “No, and I’ll tell you why…” 

“YES! I have _waited_ for this _moment_ …” Jubilee raised her arms in celebration. Jean let her head fall out of her hands and thump on the desk. 

“So, essentially -and don’t ask me how I know this. It’s classified- once a penis gets past a certain size, the ability to get and maintain a decent erection is diminished. So guys with really big ones don’t faint or get dizzy. They just get kinda spongy hard-ons.” Raven explained plainly. 

“Wow. That is actually very informative.” Ororo said in disbelief. Jean picked her head up off the desk to nod in agreement. 

“But if it’s all squishy, then how are you supposed to…” Jubilee moved her hands into the universal sign language for sex. 

“Dammit, you need to spend less time around Peter!” Jean whispered to her, only to have her desk kicked. 

“Well, that’s just the question, isn’t it?” Raven said, picking up the forgotten cucumber. “In general, really big dicks are better at impressing other men than satisfying women. They’re, like, _for show_ or something. So if you ever encounter something like this in the real world…” she continued, waving the latex-bound cucumber around, “don’t get too excited.” 

Jubilee leaned back, thoroughly impressed, and opened her mouth to say something when she was interrupted by a loud ‘BAMF’ and a burst of smoke. Kurt had appeared next to the doorway, looking like he was already profoundly embarrassed.   

“ _Entschuldigen Sie, bitte_ , but do you ladies have the bananas, or-” he frantically rambled, before being interrupted. 

“No boys allowed!” Raven shouted, and threw the not-insubstantial vegetable at him. He yelped and disappeared as quickly has he had appeared. The cucumber, which would likely have won a blue ribbon at the county fair, hit the door and snapped cleanly in half. 

“Wow. He must have drawn a short straw or something…” Jean commented. Ororo frowned and nodded in agreement. 

Raven gave a disinterested shrug and pointed towards the door. “So, that can happen, by the way.” 

“We know. It’s kinda his thing.” Jubilee responded. 

Raven waved vaguely at the broken cucumber. “No, I mean the zucchini or whatever-”   

“That’s an English cucumber.” Ororo corrected. 

“Don’t care. See how it snapped right in half? You should know that you can also break a penis in half.” 

“WOAH!” Jubilee gripped the sides of her desk. “How!? And why am I only learning this now?” 

“If you apply the the right amount of force to an erection at the right angle, it’ll just snap.” Raven explained, as casually as one would describe tying a shoelace. The girls gawked wordlessly. Jean wrote notes down, mainly because she wasn’t sure what else to do. “I mean, it won’t fall off -it’s still held on by skin- but internally, it’ll be broken.”   

“Are you telling us this as a warning, or for… tactical reasons?” Ororo asked cautiously. 

Raven shrugged. “It’s just information. Use it however you’d like.” She propped her hand on her hip and continued, “I mean, It usually happens by accident, but sometimes it’s good for things to _look like_  an accident, so…” she trailed off, and started picking at her cuticles. 

Jean stared at her meager notes while Ororo pursed her lips and looked around the room. Jubilee cringed into her chair. All three jumped when Raven suddenly clapped her hands and marched back up to the chalkboard. “So! Moving on… We have some boring stuff we _have_  to cover, but we’ll have more time for questions later on.” She picked up her chalk, but only tapped it on the board. “We have a section on how to not rape or maim your partner, which should be common sense unless you’re a psychopath… but first we have a section on mutant etiquette for dating non-mutants.” 

“ _Why_  would we even want to do that?” Jean groaned from the back of the room. 

“Shit, Jean, I dunno. Espionage, maybe?” was the best Raven could come up with. 

The rest of the morning was not nearly as boring or useless as previously thought. 

******

 The boys walked towards the closed door of the classroom where Hank was to teach them their Sex Ed class. None of them were happy about it. They were unusually early, but only because they had run out of ways to kill time at breakfast.   

“Let’s get this shit over with.” Scott sighed as he pushed open the classroom door. 

“Good morning, gentlemen!” Hank called out cheerfully from the teacher’s desk. 

“Jesus Christ, he’s already here.” Peter muttered under his breath. He had frozen in his tracks in the doorway. 

“Yes, Peter. Just keep walking.” Kurt nudged him helpfully. 

“Did he sleep here?” 

“Move, Peter.” Kurt put his hands on Peter’s shoulders and shoved him forward. 

“Please take a syllabus before having a seat.” Hank handed a sheet with a complicated array of points, sub-points, and sub-sub-points to each student as they filed by. He watched as the three of them moved towards the three farthest desks in the back of the classroom. “All the way back there? Hmm. Hopefully you can all see the board…” 

The three guys settled themselves and boggled at the detailed syllabus. Kurt raised his hand politely. “Could I ask a question, Doctor McCoy?” 

“Yes?” 

“Is this class being graded for participation?” 

“No. This class isn’t being graded at all. There’s no pass or fail criteria. It’s strictly for informational purposes.” 

“Ah. _Danke_.” Kurt pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his tail around his ankles, crossed his arms over his knees, and put his head down. Hank looked on in confusion. 

“Oh, here ya go, buddy!” Scott took his hoodie off the back of his chair and threw it over top of Kurt. 

“ _Vielen Dank_!”    

“I wish I could just sleep anywhere like that. He’s like a parrot or something.” Peter commented. Scott nodded pleasantly. 

Hank closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “The class isn’t graded, but the Professor has informed me that a lack of cooperation would result in having one’s library privileges revoked.” Kurt peeked out from under Scott’s sweater and gasped. He scrambled to straighten up, stopping with his pen in-hand. “Now, does anyone have any _relevant_  questions? As you can all see, we have a lot of material to cover, but I did allow some time for open discussion…” 

“I got one!” Peter called out, waving his arm in the air. 

“Yes, Mr. Maximoff?” 

“So, like, where’s the G-spot, anyways?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” Hank replied with a casual shrug. 

Peter sat forward and threw his hands up in frustration. “What do you mean you ‘don’t know’? I thought you were supposed to be a doctor!” 

“I am a doctor! I’ve just never completed a fellowship in obstetrics or gynecology…” 

“If you’re not a real doctor,” Kurt sputtered anxiously, “then why did you give me so many needles?” 

“I AM a doctor!” Hank insisted, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And it’s because you’d never had medical attention! You had to be vaccinated for _ _literally_ everything_.” Kurt was only slightly reassured. 

“I have a different question.” Scott said, raising his hand. 

“Please.” 

“So, assuming you are, _apparently_ , some kind of doctor…” 

“I AM A REAL DOCTOR. THIS IS NOT UP FOR DEBATE.” 

“Whoa. Okay, man, cool it.” Scott held both hands up. “So, could I -with my visor on, of course- safely stare directly into the sun?” 

“I would also like to stare at the sun right now.” Kurt mumbled quietly. 

“Hmm. Now THAT is a great question. I don’t actually know for sure, so leave it with me, and I’ll find out and get back to you.” Hank replied. “In the meantime, please refrain from staring at the sun.” Scott gave a disinterested shrug. “Also, if we could keep the questions related to sex or sexuality, then that would be ideal. Anything else?” Hank looked around the room. Crickets couldn’t be bothered to chirp. “Then we’ll get started.” 

 

Hank had moved to the board and started jotting tiny, highly organized notes as he lectured on the societal shift in sexual mores in America, starting from the post-war era to today. Scott and Kurt scrambled to keep up, while Peter seemed to zone out for minutes at a time, only to suddenly write pages of notes in a blur. 

“So, gentlemen, while we will likely not see a return to a nineteen-fifty’s style conservative attitude towards sexuality anytime soon, you’ll find that a number of factors - an increase in untreatable and communicable disease, backlash against the ‘sexual revolution,’ increased political power of religious groups, and others detailed in figure seven- mean that today’s ‘sexual climate’ is a far cry from the -ha- ‘ _swinging_ ’ sixties.” 

“Why do I give a crap about how people banged in the sixties? I was born in the sixties.” Scott whispered in annoyance as he shook a cramp out of his writing hand. 

“Everyone who was conceived in the sixties was conceived during an orgy. True fact.” Peter whispered back, and then tried not to laugh at Scott’s disgusted expression. 

Hank turned away from the chalkboard and put one hand on his hip, gesturing with the other. “- So instead of a motto of ‘free love,’ a more timely mindset is to consider that every time you have sex with someone, you also have sex with every person they’ve ever had sex with.” 

“ _Sweet._ ” Peter said emphatically, as he jotted down Hank’s last point and underlined it twice. 

“Most people don’t consider that to be a good thing.” Hank pointed out. 

Peter leaned back in his chair with one arm behind his head. “I’m just thinking that that would be, like, a really _interesting_ group of people. Like, if we were all in a room, we could have a pretty righteous party.” 

“Remind me to skip that one.” Scott scoffed. 

“Pfft. You can’t just _show up_ , bro. It’s a pretty exclusive club. You gotta _earn your place_!” Peter grinned. 

“No thanks.” 

“The purpose of that phrase is to encourage more prudent decision-making when choosing sexual partners.” Hank reiterated. 

“So, as few partners as possible, preferably zero?” Kurt asked. He tapped his pen on his notebook, awaiting confirmation. 

Hank quickly became flustered. “No, I’m not saying that! I’m just saying-” 

“I mean, holy shit, dude, do you want mutants to go extinct? Cuz that's how mutants go extinct.” Peter rambled. 

“Language!” Hank called out. 

“Well, of course not, but Doctor McCoy said…” Kurt turned to Peter while flipping through the notes he had taken. 

“It’s not like it’s up to mutants to make more mutants, though. I mean, neither of my parents are mutants, and they had _two_  mutant kids.” Scott pointed out. 

“Well yeah, that can happen, but don’t mutants _always_ have mutant kids?” Peter glanced towards Hank. 

“Maybe not _always_. It’s certainly statistically more likely, but there hasn’t been enough research to show exact probabilities.” Hank adjusted his glasses and furrowed his brow. “In fact, there are so few identified second-generation mutants, we really have no idea how mutant reproduction functions over multiple generations.” 

“Hear that, guys? Sounds like we gotta fuck for science!” Peter exclaimed, with both arms thrust into the air. 

“LANGUAGE!” 

“I don’t know. Perhaps it is the opposite. What if it isn’t safe? What if something bad happens to the baby?” Kurt asked quietly, wringing his hands. 

“Dude, what baby? Who’s talking about babies? We’re teenagers.” Scott argued. “This whole class is about how to _not_ have babies.”    

“I know things are different in America, but in the culture I was raised in, it was normal for people our age to be married and have children.” Kurt explained. 

“So, like, you’re saying that if Raven hadn’t dragged you over here, you’d be married with a couple of kids by now?” Scott raised an eyebrow in disbelief. 

“ _Nein_ , not me. But for normal people my age, it’s possible.” 

Scott opened his mouth to form some kind of rebuttal, but was interrupted by Peter. “Ugh, both of you guys are way too young to get married. You should probably wait until you’re at least thirty. Or thirty-five.” He looked down and shrugged. “Maybe forty. Or maybe not at all. Do people even still get married? I don’t actually know any married people.” 

“People still get married and the average age of first marriage for males in this country is twenty-five.” Hank interjected, trying to reign in Peter’s rambling. “And Scott’s correct in his assertion that a focus of this class is avoiding precocious paternity.” 

Again, silence. Kurt looked at Scott quizzically. “Um, I think he means the ‘don’t have kids when you’re a teenager’ thing.” Scott whispered back. Kurt nodded and wrote that down. 

“So, let’s move on to the next section, which covers the prevention of sexually transmitted infections and unwanted pregnancy. Now, there is a lot of material we _could_  cover, but I’d like to get an idea of what you each already know. We might be able to skip some sections due to redundancy if you’ve all learned this already.” Hank moved back to the chalkboard, and tapped his chalk on it expectantly. 

“I took your basic high school-level Sex Ed. It covered, like, STDs, pregnancy, condoms, that kinda thing…” Scott explained while scratching the side of his head. 

“Oh yeah, me too. Is it still mainly just pictures of scabby dicks? Cuz when I took it, there were a lot of scabby dicks.” Peter added with disgusted look. 

“Ugh, yeah. It was gross.” Scott frowned at the memory. “Except it’s worse now that the pictures are in color.” 

“Okay, like, they were in color when I was in school, too. I’m not that old.” Peter said flatly. 

Scott shrugged. “What about you, Kurt?” 

“I never went to school, so I’ve never been in a class like this before.” 

“Well, yeah, but did your foster mom ever give you ‘the talk’?” 

“She was my mother and we lived together, so we spoke often, _ja_.” 

“I think he’s talking about the whole ‘birds and the bees’ talk, dude.” Peter offered. 

Kurt’s expression changed to confusion and mild disgust. Scott sighed. “We mean a talk about sex. Did anyone ever talk to you about sex back home?” 

“Oh!Sorry.” Kurt straightened up in his chair. “When I was young and walking around the circus grounds with my mother, we came across some dogs who were…you know. She pointed this out and told me ‘That’s how babies are made.’ I assumed that was how puppies were made, but the general idea is the same, _ja_?” 

“Jesus Christ…” Peter muttered under his breath. 

“And also, when I was older, my brother would sometimes…I think you call it ‘hook up’? - with women he met when we were on tour. He would try to tell me all about it, but I found the way he spoke of these young women was disrespectful, so I tried to ignore him.” Kurt added, looking down at his notes. 

“That’s probably for the best. Respect is very important.” Scott assured. 

“Absolutely. Always gotta fuck people with respect. That’s rule number one.” Peter agreed enthusiastically. 

“ _Language_ , gentlemen!” Hank called out, as he stood ignored by the chalkboard. 

Kurt nodded. “In addition, my mother told me that if I got a girl pregnant, she’d rip my privates off.” he added casually. 

“WHOA! What the hell!” Scott reeled back. 

“Haha, nice! Mom told me the same thing, except instead of ‘rip them off,’ it was ‘nail them to a tree.’” Peter said with a pleasant chuckle. Scott swung around and stared at him in disbelief. “Relax, dude. Threats of physical violence are totally normal.” 

“I kinda feel like they shouldn’t be…” Scott said tentatively. 

“Well, they are. It’s simple and effective. Right, Kurt?” Peter called out. Kurt nodded with a smile. “I mean, I got a combination of scabby dick pictures _and_  physical threats. It’s a wonder I never developed a complex or something.” Peter thought out loud.   

“So it sounds to me like you’ve never gotten a talk about, like, safe sex or condoms or anything like that.” Scott stated. Kurt shrugged and shook his head. “Okay. So we’re going to do that right now, so that your foster mother doesn’t end up having to march over here to rip your junk off.” 

“That seems unlikely, but if you insist.” 

“Says the guy who keeps kicking hot women out of his bed.” Peter called out. Kurt shot him an annoyed glance. 

“So anyway, Peter, if you grab a banana from the kitchen, I’ll grab a condom and-” Scott started to explain. Peter disappeared from the room in an instant, and Hank cleared his throat loudly. 

“Perhaps I should take over at this point, being as I am, in fact, the instructor…” Hank insisted. 

“No, it’s cool, we have this covered…” Scott insisted, even more firmly. Kurt glanced back and forth between them uncomfortably. 

Peter zipped back into his desk, driving it back several inches. “There’s no bananas left. The girls must have taken them.” 

“ALL of them? Jesus.” Scott turned to Kurt. “Can you pop into their classroom and borrow one? We only need one.” 

Kurt wrung his hands nervously. “Hmm. I suppose.” he said, and vanished into a burst of smoke. 

“So once he gets back, we’ll just…huh.” Scott froze as he unzipped his backpack. 

Kurt burst back into his desk, looking thoroughly traumatized. “The girls don’t have the bananas!” he blurted. “They have some kind of giant flying green snake!” 

“Okay, what the _fuck_  is going on?” Peter demanded. 

“Language!” 

“So, mystery solved. The bananas are in my backpack. Jean must have put them in there as a prank.” Scott smirked, and set the entire bunch of bananas on his desk. “The green thing could have been a zucchini or something.” 

“Damn, that sets the bar high, doesn’t it?” Peter muttered. 

“Anyway, let me just grab the condom out of my wallet and…” Scott reached further into his backpack. 

“Dude! Holy shit! You can’t keep them in your wallet!” Peter ranted. “It, like, breaks down the latex or something. Better change it up or Jean’s getting pregnant for sure.” 

“Shut up! I don’t need Hank knowing my private business!” Scott whispered angrily. 

Peter laughed. “Calm down, bro. You guys were, like, hanging out in the common room yesterday with your hands in each other’s back pockets. Everybody knows. Your relationship is not some sorta big secret.” 

Scott scoffed in annoyance and crossed his arms. Finally he sighed and relaxed somewhat. “Why don’t I just get the box from my room, and we can look at the booklet that comes with it? There might be more stuff we don’t know.” 

“That’s an excellent idea, Scott. The material properties of latex, alone, would make for a fascinating discussion-” Hank started, until he was interrupted by Peter. 

“Why don’t I just grab it? It’ll be way faster. Bedside table?” Peter rambled quickly while putting his goggles in place. 

“My door’s locked, Peter.” 

“Yeah, but knobs here all have this trick where if you lean against the door while turning the knob back and forth really fast, the locking mechanism just gives up.” Peter explained, flailing his hands in demonstration as he spoke. 

“ ** **Do not****  break into my room.” 

“I’ll be back in a sec, dude, don’t worry about it.” Peter assured. 

“Don’t worry about it? ** **I AM worried about this, Peter****!” Scott called out angrily, but Peter was already gone. 

He was back not three seconds later, and tossed the box of condoms onto Scott’s desk. “There ya go. Now let’s push our desks together so we can look at that little booklet.” 

The guys shoved their desks together, with Scott in the middle, while Scott fished out the booklet and unraveled it. “Holy shit, this folds out like a road map of Iowa.” 

“Yep. And the writing is tiny and it’s in, like, eighty languages. One of these has gotta be English.” Peter said, leaning closer to Scott and squinting. 

“If need be, I can read at least three of these languages.” Kurt offered. 

“There it is!” Peter pointed enthusiastically. “See, there’s the part where it says about not putting it in a wallet. It also says about glove compartments.” 

Scott nodded. “Hmm. So it does. How do you know this anyway? You’ve read this before?” 

“Well, yeah, a bunch of times. You never get bored waiting for your girl to get her clothes off?” 

“Um, no. Never.” 

“Hmm. Well then.” Peter shrugged. “Anyways, time to move on to the universal language- pictures of dicks!” he announced, and jabbed his finger at the small demonstration diagram at the bottom of the pamphlet. It was a series of simple line drawings showing the steps of putting on a condom. 

“Okay, Kurt, you see this diagram? This make sense to you?” Scott asked, pointing out the small drawing. 

“ _Ja_ , it doesn’t look too complicated.” 

“It definitely isn’t, but it is important to be careful. Okay, so here’s a condom, and here’s a pretend boner-” Scott handed a condom and a banana over to Kurt, but was interrupted by Hank clearing his throat. 

“Now, since this is a classroom setting, I must insist that we use proper, anatomical terminology. No slang or swears.” Hank said professionally, with his hands held behind his back. 

“Um, no.” Scott replied firmly. 

Peter nodded in agreement, and directed his attention to Hank. “Sorry, dude, but I have never used the word ‘scrotum’ in a sentence, and I’m not about to start now.” 

Hank threw his hands up in exasperation and turned back to the board. He finally ignored his three students and started drawing some kind of chart. 

Scott shrugged and turned back to Kurt. “So, you got what you need. Just follow the instructions.” 

Kurt nodded and reached for the condom tentatively. Peter reached across Scott’s desk to point at the wrapper. “So, like, don’t open it with your teeth. You might shred it.” 

Kurt nodded once. The intense scrutiny he was under was starting to turn him purple. He moved to open the wrapper, but paused when Scott interjected, “Watch your nails, too. Don’t wanna puncture anything.” 

Kurt set the condom down and folded his hands on the desk. “If I can’t touch things without destroying them, then it’s better that I just keep all my body parts to myself, _nicht wahr_?” 

Scott wasn’t having it. “Nope. Keep going, just be careful. You got this.” 

Kurt took a deep breath and exhaled, then picked the condom back up. He quickly followed the instructions in the booklet to the letter, and then set the banana/condom combination on Scott’s desk. “There.” 

“See? Easy.”   

Peter waved his arm around over his head. “Hank! We got it! He got it!” 

Hank sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Great. Can we move on now? We’re behind, and we still have a ton of material to cover.” All three guys slumped into their chairs and begrudgingly picked up their pens as Hank started frantically writing on the board again.

 

The next chunk of class time was devoted to contraception and disease prevention. It included everything from the history of birth control as a concept, to the development and improvement of various methods over the years, exact mechanisms of function, failure percentiles, and pro/con decision charts for choosing which type is best. It was a dizzying amount of extremely dry information. 

Kurt set his pen down so he could rub his eyes vigorously in an attempt to stay awake. Peter had completely filled his margins with stick-figure doodles. Hank finally finished writing a very drawn-out point on the board, and turned around to summarize. 

“So, as per this decision chart, we can see that utilizing one method of protection is great, but combing two is best. A popular combination for heterosexual intercourse is using both condoms and hormonal birth control pills. Another acceptable combination is-” 

“How about a combination of _your face_  and _your personality_?” Scott called out suddenly. 

“WHOA-OH” Peter hollered, and gripped the sides of his desk before he and Kurt burst into laughter. 

Hank dropped his chalk and sputtered angrily. “You did say abstinence was most effective, _ja_? You did say that.” Kurt added, before they all started laughing again. 

Hank slammed his hands on the teacher’s desk in a huff. “ _Why_ are you guys acting like this? I mean, I expected this kind of behavior from Peter, but not the rest of you!” 

“I dunno, I think that I’m just kind of obligated to be a bit of a dick to my brother’s friends. It’s a younger-brother code.” Scott explained. “It’s what Alex would have wanted.” 

“Huh. That’s probably true.” Hank stood up straighter and brushed the chalk off his hands. He motioned to Kurt. “What’s your excuse?” 

Kurt set a hand lightly on Scott’s shoulder. “We support our friend during this difficult time.” 

Hank let out the world’s longest sigh. “Great.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is taken from the lyrics of the song 'Adult Education' by Hall & Oats (1985).  
> Also, the next chapter may feature actual plot development. Also popcorn.


	19. Burn, Burn, Burn To The Wick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ororo and Kurt have a movie marathon. Unrelated side note: How many X-Men does it take to work a VCR?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert for some, like, super old movies: Young Frankenstein (1974), Frankenstein (1931), and Bride of Frankenstein (1935).

Ororo made her way to the TV room for eight PM- the time Kurt had agreed to meet her for their movie night. She was disheartened to find the room deserted, but three VHS tapes piled on the coffee table. ‘He must be around here somewhere’ she thought to herself, and made her way to the kitchen, which was only a few doors up the hall. Sure enough, the sound of popping kernels and metal on metal assured her she had nothing to worry about. 

Kurt always made popcorn on the stove-top in a large pot, popping the kernels in hot oil and salt. That was how he had learned to do it in Europe. Ororo had always preferred it to the much-faster microwaveable bags of popcorn her other friends utilized, but she knew that if she admitted that out loud, she’d cause a riot. When she turned the corner to the kitchen, she saw him holding the cover on with one hand while vigorously moving the large pot back and forth over the burner with the other. 

She padded quickly across the tile and came up behind him. “There you are!” she said cheerfully, a split-second before ghosting her fingertips lightly over his lower back and resting her hand on the hip opposite to where she stood. She could feel him just barely startle, but quickly suppress it in favor of smiling back at her.   

“ _Hallo _,__  Ororo, how are you? I’m…” He paused and suddenly turned serious. “ _Gott_ , I’m late, aren’t I?” 

“Hardly! Maybe by a minute or two. I wasn’t really keeping track.” she assured him. 

“I’m sorry. The pot I needed was dirty, so I had to wash it before I could use it, and then I couldn’t find the popcorn kernels…” he rambled, while peeking inside the pot to check on the popcorn. 

“Oh, shush! I should have come down sooner to help out.” She moved her hand up to pat his shoulder. “Is there anything I can do now?” 

“Not really. I’m almost done. But if you are getting yourself a drink, I’d appreciate one as well.” 

“Sure thing!” She walked to the refrigerator to grab a couple of Cokes. 

Kurt took the pot off the burner and dumped the popcorn into a large bowl he had set out. “Do you like butter on it? Salt? How much?” 

She leaned against the fridge door and smiled. “I like whatever you like.” 

“I THOUGHT I smelled popcorn!” 

All eyes shot towards Jubilee, who now peeked around the door frame. She had an impish look in her eye, and her grin was almost as bright as her florescent green scrunchie. Kurt smiled with his typical level of friendliness, while Ororo could barely restrain her contempt. 

“You thought correctly!” Kurt called over. “Would you like some? I made plenty.” 

“You could even put some in a small bowl and go back to your room.” Ororo suggested. She turned to face Jubilee, mainly so Kurt couldn’t see her stern expression. 

Jubilee stuck her tongue out at Ororo, but otherwise ignored her. “That is, like, a _ton_  of popcorn. You guys got a movie marathon planned, or something?” 

“ _Ja_ , we’re watching some _Frankenstein_  movies! We have three of them.” 

“Really? I’ve never seen them.” Jubilee feigned interest. 

“Well, if you haven’t read the book, I can’t imagine you’d be too interested.” Ororo crossed her arms and continued to glare. 

“I’m pretty sure only the original movie has anything to do with the book, and even then, it’s quite different.” Kurt glanced over his shoulder to explain. He added more butter into the pot to melt. “You are more than welcome to join us if you’d like.” 

Ororo’s mouth dropped open while Jubilee donned the world’s most shit-eating grin. “Totally!” she replied cheerfully. 

“Great! Now, if you ladies want to make yourself comfortable, I’ll just be a couple more minutes!” 

Jubilee stifled a squeak as Ororo grabbed her upper arm and marched her into the TV room. Ororo released her with some force, and fidgeted in agitation while Jubilee readjusted her sleeve. 

“ ** **Why****  are you doing this? ****What****  do you get out of it?” Ororo demanded. 

Jubilee rolled her eyes dramatically before responding. “Omigawd, ‘Ro, get a grip! This isn’t a date! It’s not a date!” She tried to keep her voice down, compensating by moving her hands as she spoke. “He invited a third person without asking you! Your evening was ruined _waaay_ before I got here.” 

Ororo stilled, putting her forehead in her hand. She sighed heavily without looking up. “So you’re here to gloat? Make me feel stupid?” 

Jubilee paused to regard Ororo, shaking her head slightly. Finally, she cracked a half-smile. “Nope. Of course not. That would be a major Girl Code infraction.” She placed her hand on Ororo’s shoulder and guided her to sit on the couch with her. “See, I’m not like Scott. I’m not a cockblocker. I’m really more of a cock- _facilitator_.”   

Ororo frowned. “Please don’t use that phrase ever again.” 

“What I’m trying to say is that I would love _nothing more_  than for you to get railed.” 

“Do you have any idea how you sound? To other people, when you speak?” 

Jubilee shrugged. “Look, I’m not saying I’m definitely going to get you laid. If getting people to ignore their sexual inhibitions was my mutant power, this place would be like a Slip’N’Slide twenty-four-seven…” 

“Ugh.” 

“...But what I AM saying is that your chances are _slightly_  higher with me here. Just trust me and let me work my magic.” 

“I don’t trust you. In fact, I’m highly skeptical of you.” 

“Pfft. Like I care. Anyway, it’s not like I’m going to sit here and watch three boring old black-and-white movies with you guys. I’ll leave after a while and you’ll have plenty of opportunity to sit quietly on a couch together. Deal?” Jubilee held her hand out for Ororo to shake. 

Ororo took a deep breath to try and rid herself of frustration. “Fine.” she said, and shook Jubilee’s hand once. 

When Kurt walked into the TV room, he was greeted by the sight of Jubilee crouched in front of the TV and VHS player, fiddling with buttons and dials while Ororo sprawled against the arm of the couch, listing off the labels of the buttons on the remote. After much apparent struggle, the movie studio logo flashed across the TV screen, and Jubilee and Ororo cheered in victory. When the girls finally noticed him standing in the doorway, Ororo re-positioned her long legs to rest on the coffee table, as Jubilee hopped up and ran back to the couch. 

Jubilee sat cross-legged near the center of the couch, and patted the relatively narrow space between her and Ororo. “You have to sit in the middle because you have the food!” 

Kurt shrugged and took his place on the couch, sandwiched between the two women. Jubilee immediately stuffed a handful of popcorn in her mouth. Ororo leaned towards Kurt and pointed at the TV. “Jubilee decided we should watch _Young Frankenstein_  first, even though it’s a newer film. It might be an origin story.” she explained, and took a smaller handful of popcorn for herself. Kurt nodded thoughtfully. 

As it turned out, _Young Frankenstein_  was not a prequel to the _Frankenstein_  series. It was a parody of _Frankenstein_  and other early horror films, and happened to be one of the funniest movies ever made. Jubilee laughed until soda almost came out her nose when Igor dropped the correct brain on the ground, and the sound of her squealing due to the feeling of carbonation caused her two couch-mates to laugh even harder. 

Ororo’s burst of laughter at the Inspector’s absurd, incomprehensible Germanic accent was partially muffled by a mouthful of popcorn. Kurt laughed along, but then mumbled “I’m not that bad, am I? Do you two think I sound like that?” 

Ororo patted his arm. “Oh, no! Not at all!” she said reassuringly. Jubilee shrugged and tipped her hand back in forth, signifying ‘kinda.’ 

During the scene where Madeline Kahn’s character and Frankenstein’s creation hook up after she discovers his ‘enormous _schwanzstucker_ ’ Jubilee snorted and stared gleefully at Kurt, who was cringing somewhat. 

“Omigawd! _Schwanzstucker _?__ Is that what you guys call it _ _?” s__ he grinned, relishing how embarrassed he looked.    

“Umm…” he replied quietly, “not quite, but sort of…” 

“That’s hilarious! I’m going to say that all the time now!” 

“Please don’t.” 

Finally, film wrapped up with Frankenstein’s now-cultured creation and Madeline Kahn’s character getting married, complete with a top hat and a streaked beehive hairdo respectively. Ororo shook Kurt’s knee and pointed at the screen. “See! I told you! All he needed was a little sophistication.” 

Kurt smirked. “Well, I suppose you were right.” 

“I was also right about the -what was it?- _Schwanzstucker _?”__  she added.  

Kurt frowned and shook his head. “I’m never going to hear the end of that, am I?” 

“Nope!” Jubilee exclaimed, as she tossed up a piece of popcorn and caught it in her mouth. “The moral of the story- there’s nothing a man can’t accomplish with a touch of class and a great dick.” 

Ororo nodded in mock-thoughtfulness. “So true.” Kurt stared into the popcorn bowl bashfully. 

“Speaking of a ‘touch of class,’ ‘Ro, I love your anklet…” Jubilee motioned towards the delicate silver chain around Ororo’s ankle. “Is it new?” 

“Oh, this?” Ororo raised her straightened leg high off the coffee table to show off the piece of jewelry. “I bought this when we went to Coney Island last year- a man on the boardwalk was selling them. Now that it’s ‘shorts weather,’ I can finally wear it.” She emphasized this by tugging on the frayed hem of her black denim button-fly cutoffs. 

“So you couldn’t have just made it ’shorts weather’ whenever you wanted?” Jubilee asked skeptically. Kurt had frozen with a handful of popcorn kernels halfway between the bowl and his face, distracted by how Ororo now bent the leg with the anklet and planted her heel on her other knee. 

“I could, but I wouldn’t want to interfere with the ecosystem- confuse migratory birds or insect life cycles. That sort of thing.” 

“Whoa. I’m glad I don’t have to worry about my powers confusing birds…” Jubilee said with a satisfied nod. 

“What are you talking about, Jubilation? Last time we went to Burger King, you had the seagulls in the parking lot very confused.” Kurt had finally checked back into the conversation and smirked at Jubilee. 

“They stole my fries, Kurt. All bets were off.” She raised her eyebrow and tossed another kernel into her mouth for emphasis. 

Jubilee fiddled with the remote to try and rewind the video tape. Out of the corner of her eye, she should see the very tip of Kurt’s tail move up the trace the line of Ororo’s anklet, apparently unbeknownst to either of them. She rolled her eyes and shook her head when Ororo suddenly cried “Ah! That tickles!” before devolving into giggles and scratching the area around her anklet. 

“I’m sorry!” Kurt exclaimed, before looking down and muttering “I did it again, didn’t I?” 

Ororo patted his knee reassuringly. “Oh, I don’t mind. I just think it’s funny.” She laughed again and smiled warmly at him. “You could get yourself in trouble if you weren’t so cute.” 

It was all Jubilee could do to keep her mouth shut. They both had it so bad, it was painful to watch. Kurt turned his head to Ororo, but kept his gaze averted. “It’s very pretty. I just got distracted.” She responded with an easy smile and a casual shrug. 

The whirring hum of the videotape rewinding came to a sudden halt. Kurt suddenly set the popcorn on the coffee table and stood. “Does anyone else want another drink before we start the next movie?” 

Jubilee shook her head, while Ororo said “I’d love one, please!” Kurt nodded and walked out of the room. 

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Jubilee said in a hushed voice as she turned to face Ororo. “Think you got it from here?” 

Ororo raised her eyebrow at Jubilee. “Yes, I think I’ll manage. I don’t even think you did anything.” 

“Ah. But I also didn’t _not_  do anything. That’s where the magic comes in.” Jubilee explained, and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. Ororo shook her head and sighed. Jubilee reached over and patted Ororo’s knee. “Worst case scenario- you still have those books I lent you. So the evening’s not a total loss.” she added with a wink. 

“Ah yes. Those books may have been partially responsible for that ten-minute sun-shower we had yesterday.” Ororo said with a mischievous glint in her eye.   

“Hmm. I was wondering if you had anything to do with that.” Jubilee bit her lip and nodded. “So, if you get wet, we all gotta get wet- is that it?”

Ororo gave her shoulder a playful shove. “You’re awful!” she insisted, but they both laughed anyway. 

Kurt walked back into the room and handed Ororo her soda. He set his down on the coffee table and started the process of switching the movies. “The next one should be ready in just a minute!” he assured the two girls. 

“I hope this one is as funny as the last one!” Jubilee said, as she read the box art of the previous movie. 

“This one’s actually not a comedy. It’s the original _Frankenstein_  film from nineteen-thirty-one.” Kurt explained, without looking up from the VCR. 

“Oh. From back before humor was invented.” Jubilee gave a solemn nod. She then stood up from the couch. “Well, guys, I think I’m gonna sit this one out. I have some things to do that I really should stay on top of.” 

“Oh, that’s too bad!” Kurt replied, sounding genuinely disappointed. 

“Things to do, that you need to stay on top of? Hmm. Any of these things named Peter?” Ororo asked with a sly smile. She had crossed her legs and laced her fingers over her knee. 

Jubilee winked at her and laughed. “Goodnight, guys. Thanks for the popcorn!” 

Kurt and Ororo wished Jubilee a good night, and she left just as the second movie was starting. Ororo had moved closer to the center of the couch, and had the popcorn set on the cushion next to her. She smiled when, despite having lots of room to choose from, Kurt sat very close to her, setting the popcorn bowl back on his lap. 

The _Frankenstein_  movie, as Kurt had warned, was very different from the book. Ororo was disappointed that the plot appeared to be reworked to better please audiences. In particular, she didn’t like how Frankenstein’s creation was reduced to a mute, lumbering bolt-necked fiend, and the conflict between the mad doctor and his creation resulted in a ‘happily-ever-after’ style ending. However, it wasn’t a bad movie. It was full of thrilling scenes and iconic imagery. 

During the famous ‘It’s alive’ scene, during which lightening strikes the lab and brings the creature to life, Ororo commented “According to this, I may be able to reanimate the dead.” 

Kurt laughed. “If we combined your lightening and Doctor McCoy’s lab equipment, I’m sure you could.” 

“Of course, I would be in charge of educating the creature. We don’t want Doctor McCoy to make it obsessed with robots, do we?” Ororo threw another popcorn kernel in her mouth. 

“After being in Doctor McCoy’s Sex Ed class, I wish he would talk _more_  about robots.” Kurt shuddered at the memory. 

Ororo smirked. “Then it’s settled. We’ll get the creature to teach Sex Ed.” 

“At the very least, it can’t be worse!” 

As the credits rolled on _Frankenstein_ , Kurt set the popcorn bowl aside and got up to switch to the next move, _Bride of Frankenstein_. Ororo pulled her legs onto the couch to sit cross-legged, and picked up the popcorn bowl to sift through the last few kernels. As it turned out, the previous renter hadn’t rewound the movie, so that was going to take a few minutes. 

“What is it about Doctor McCoy’s class that makes it so bad? I heard Scott complaining as well.” Ororo asked, mainly just to break the silence. 

“Oh, I don’t know. I’m hardly an expert on the topic…” Kurt looked down bashfully, back-lit by grayish TV static. “I think it’s just _too much_  information? I had assumed the class would be embarrassing- and it is - but mainly it is boring.” 

“That’s surprising. I would have assumed Doctor McCoy would be a good choice to teach it, because of his medical knowledge.” 

“Well, he is, but- I don’t know…” Kurt’s tail drummed on the rug as he thought. “For example, the section on contraceptives started with the statement ‘Almost four thousand years ago…’” He swept his arm from left to right dramatically, recalling the notes on the board.   

“What! That’s absurd!” Ororo grinned. 

“Oh! You may find this interesting. Did you know…” Kurt smiled and folded his hands in his lap, continuing with an academic tone, “that the rubber tree was first utilized in rubber production in Mesoamerica, but most modern rubber plantations are in southeast Asia?” 

Ororo put her hand to her chin and nodded in mock-professionalism. “Hmm. Fascinating. I _did not_  know that.” She dropped the facade and they both laughed. “Now, more importantly, why do _you_ know that?” 

“Doctor McCoy thought it was important that we learn about the invention and manufacturing of latex.” Ororo searches Kurt’s straight expression for signs that he is joking. He is not. 

“Well, that’s dumb!” 

“I agree!”   

Finally, the next movie started playing, and Kurt re-took his spot on the couch. When a quick inspection revealed that the bowl of popcorn had been reduced to husks and unpopped kernels, he set it on the coffee table. Ororo was surprised when, instead of keeping his hands on his lap like he generally did, he stretched the arm closest to her over the back of the couch. She waited to see if he was going to pull the ‘yawn-arm stretch-shoulder clutch’ maneuver that was so common in American romance movies. She thought if he did, the sheer corniness alone would cause an uncontrollable laughing fit. However, seconds ticked by and his arm stayed outstretched on the couch, centimeters from her, well within her personal space but not actually touching her at all.   

They sat in relative silence, watching the movie, until Kurt asked quietly “What was it that Raven threw at my face?” 

“Um…” Ororo’s mouth hung open for the few seconds it took her to realize he was talking about their Sex Ed class. “Oh! It was a cucumber. A rather large English cucumber. We had been using it for demonstrative purposes.” 

Kurt didn’t take his eyes off the TV screen, but she almost see the waves of unanswered questions cross his face. He opens his mouth to say something, but the best he can do is “…oh.” 

She laughed quietly to herself. “Jean brought it in as a joke that backfired on us. But Raven was a good sport about it, and kept it around.” Kurt nods silently. Ororo glanced over at him. “She has a very unique perspective on things, your mother. She’s led a very interesting life.” 

Kurt nods silently again, pausing to look down and pick at a loose thread on his pant leg. Barely above a whisper, he says “My mother is a travelling fortune teller from Bavaria.”   

“Oh…Yes. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” 

He watched the TV intently, leaving her wondering how far, exactly, she had put her foot in her mouth. He didn’t look mad, but truthfully she had never seen him angry, so it could be hard to tell if he was. Eventually, he glances sidelong at her, catching her staring. He smirks a little, and looked back to the TV before saying “You know, for all the things that Raven’s thrown at me, she has yet to actually hit me with anything.” 

She smiles, relieved. “Ha! I’m sure if you _let_  her hit you with something, she’d stop trying.” 

He scoffs and grins back at her. “But then it would be a whole… _thing_. I could not tolerate the gloating.” 

“Looks like you’ll have to stay on your toes, then.” 

The TV room and adjacent hallway were lit only by the greyish light of the television, and the late-night silence was interrupted only by the din of lumbering fiends and mad scientists having mad conversations. One could easily assume that the mansion’s various other residents had either left or gone to sleep. Emboldened by the unconventional amount of privacy, Ororo considered how she work her current situation to her favor. They were sitting so close, she thought, that they were already touching. If he were uncomfortable with it, he would have scooted further away long ago. What would be the harm in a few more centimeters of physical contact? Determined, she uncrossed her legs and folded them under her and to the side opposite him. She leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder, and lightly setting her hand on his abdomen. She looks up at him, and when he looks back, she gives him a slight smile that she hopes is more shy than smug. The smile he returns is purely warm, and he finally - _finally_ \- let his arm slide off the back of the couch and across her shoulders. She can’t help but feel victorious, and she snuggles in a little closer. 

The rest of the movie seems to fly by. It had been so long since she was this close to someone, she had almost forgotten how soothing it could be. It felt comfortable. It felt _right_. Their slow, steady breathing seemed to have synchronized. He’s so warm -possibly due to wearing a cotton long-sleeved shirt on a summer’s evening- and he smells clean and spicy, and just a little bit burned. As they watch torch-wielding villagers and evil schemes, he traces slow circles on her bare upper arm with his hard, dull nail, while she idly plays with the fabric of his shirt. Soon, her eyes felt heavy and it seemed as though every time she blinked, she’d miss seconds of the movie, to the point that it was reduced to brief snippets of plot. The last thing she remembered was the revealing of the Bride- Dr. Pretorius’ beautiful, terrible creation- after which she couldn’t force her eyes open any longer.   

******

 

Just because someone can fly doesn’t mean they can’t have nightmares about falling. What made this dream different, however, was that it included a startling, if not soft and bouncy, landing. She breathed a harsh, rasping gasp and her heart pounded mercilessly from the shock of it. Her eyes snapped open and her fear only deepened as the darkness of the room coalesced into a narrow black figure that loomed over her, glowering down at her with wide, owlish eyes that reflected all the light in the room. While her brain lurched in sleep-induced confusion, her body reacted by clamoring away, further into the center of what seemed like it could be her bed. 

The figure shifted in some indefinable way, and her bedside lamp turned on with a soft click. “Sorry, sorry!” Kurt (Of course. Who else?) soothed in a hushed voice. “You had fallen asleep, so I was trying to put you to bed without waking you. I forgot how tall your bed is, though…” 

“I fell asleep…” she muttered, mainly to herself. Fully awake now, her brain seemed to be trying to negotiate with her heart and lungs to calm down. She saw Kurt nod. She pulled herself up to a sitting position and wrapped her arms around her knees. “Well, you really didn’t have to tuck me in! You could have just left me on the couch, I wouldn’t mind.” 

“...You were on my tail.” 

“Oh. Sorry.” 

“Well, I did just drop you like a sack of potatoes and traumatize you, _again_ , so I’d say at the very least, we are even.” He tilted his head with a self-depreciating smile. She gave a lighthearted scoff and he looked down. “Good night, then. _Auf Wiedersehen_.”   

He turns to leave, but again, she’s not ready for him to go. “Wait!” she said, with a little more urgency then she wanted, “I’m not going back to sleep any time soon. Why don’t you stay and hang out for a bit?” 

He smiled politely and shrugged, and sat on the edge of her bed a couple feet from her. “Sounds good to me. What would you like to talk about?” He looked to her expectantly, with his hands folded in his lap and his tail thumping softly on her bedspread. 

Hmm. What _did_  she want to talk about? She pulled herself across the bed to kneel beside him, and after a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed both sides of his face and pulled him into a kiss. 

She was unsure whether she was being too bold, or not nearly bold enough. She was encouraged by how, once the initial shock wore off him, he brought his hands up to her back- holding her close, gently nudging her closer. She shifted to position things better, tilting her head and wrapping her arm around his neck while threading the other hand through his thick, black hair. He lets one hand stray downward to the small of her back, but otherwise lets her take the lead almost entirely. When she licked her tongue across his lips to try and deepen the kiss, she can feel him tense and his jaw clamp shut. She isn’t sure if it’s inexperience or self-consciousness about his unusual teeth, but it doesn’t matter. There are ways around it. 

It just takes one fluid motion, and she’s on him- one knee planted on either side of his legs. The look he gives her is surprised and questioning, but his hands immediately move to grip her shoulders and his tail coils itself snugly around her waist. She leans down to kiss him again - running both hands through his hair this time- before moving on to kiss his jaw, earlobe, and neck. She traces the curving line of one of his scars across the crook of his neck with her tongue until she loses it down the collar of his shirt, and he takes a slow, gasping breath that makes her wonder if he’d been alone as long as she had. He had moved his hand to the back of her head, and the sensation of his nails running through the soft hair of her Mohawk and the barely-there stubble surrounding it makes her shiver. That, combined with the way his tail tightened around her waist was thrilling. Warm and strong, it had an almost undulating movement around her core- always moving, never constricting, but always trying to hold her closer. It was such an alien sensation, but she couldn’t get enough. She had never wanted something so bad, while having so little idea what she was in for. 

She pulled back from him to run her hands across his shoulders and down his sides and back up to his chest, feeling the lean, wiry muscle underneath heavy cotton. It seems he’s every bit as fit as Jubilee had boasted he would be, and he lets his eyes slip shut and sighs under her attention. He traces the curve of her back with one hand and she wants more, so she settles herself closer to him, until she’s very much sitting in his lap. Goddess, even through the thick khaki she can feel that he’s already hard. She rolls her hips gently and experimentally, and he immediately moves both hands to grip her hips. 

The sound she makes is halfway between a gasp and a laugh, and -unsatisfied with their current level of contact- she reaches down with one hand to grip the bottom of his shirt so she can untuck it and pull it up. She leans in to kiss his neck again, and she feels him unravel his tail from her waist, and wrap it around the wrist that’s pulling his shirt up. It gently, firmly pulls her hand away from his abdomen and into the space between their faces, the spaded tip wavering distractingly in her line of sight. 

He looks up to her, searching her face with his brow furrowed. “Ororo, what do you want?” he asks, in a hushed, neutral tone. 

She suppresses a low laugh and looks him over again. “I would have thought that was obvious.”   

“No, I need you to tell me.” 

She smirked and licked her lips. Time to see if following Jean’s advice about being direct would pay off. She ran her free hand down the back of his neck and leaned in, as if to share a secret. “You and me. This bed. Right now.”   

As soon as the words left her mouth, the tip of his tail twitched into her vision again, shifting subtly around her wrist. That tail. The thing that always gave him away. The only part of him that _wasn’t_ shy. Impulsively, she pulled her wrist towards her face and quickly captured the spade in her mouth. She hummed against it as she ran her tongue down the center of it. She’s surprised by how soft and flexible it is, and she can feel his heartbeat flutter against her tongue. 

His grip on her hips tightens, and he looks down and away. She smirks victoriously when he lets out a slow, shuddering breath. She isn’t sure how to react, then, when he quickly, firmly picks her up by the hips and moves her off his lap and back to his side as he pulls his tail from her and tucks it away behind him. She stares in blank confusion with one leg hanging off the bed, and the other still awkwardly splayed across his lap. 

He won’t meet her gaze, but he turns to her and gathers her hands in his, holding them across both their laps as gently and as chastely as it is possible for a man to hold a woman’s hand. His voice is almost imperceptibly quiet when she hears him say “I just…I need more than that, I’m sorry.” 

Ororo pulls back, stammering. “Sorry? What? I don’t…” 

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, even quieter, before instantly dissipating into a cloud of black smoke and noise. 

Ororo was left dumbfounded, sitting alone in her darkened room, staring at an empty hollow where a man should be.       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is from the song Barracuda by Heart (1977). Heart is just a great band.   
> Also, Young Frankenstein is actually really funny. Highly recommend.


	20. Monday, Monday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men are in damage-control mode after the last chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty light, short chapter. Some yelling.

The next day’s Danger Room session was painfully awkward. Of course, both Kurt and Ororo were too professional to let it effect their actual performance, but there wasn’t a person in the room who didn’t notice the stilted, minimal conversation or purposefully avoided glances. This was exacerbated by how they both seemed to simply disappear following the session, so their friends couldn’t try to sort out what was going on. 

On Monday morning, Kurt stood at the sink of the dormitory bathroom, brushing his teeth. It was usually mostly deserted at this hour, and he hoped he could finish getting ready and teleport into Doctor McCoy’s final Sex Ed class without having to see or speak to anyone. He ducked his head under the tap to rinse his mouth. 

“Dude, what the fuck!?” rang loudly in his ears without warning. He snapped his head up, only to see in the bathroom mirror the reflection of a grayish specter that wasn’t there before. 

“Gaah!” he yelled, and jumped about a meter backwards, reflexively flinging a tube of toothpaste at his tormentor. 

Peter stood with his arms crossed and a deadpan expression, and did not even attempt to avoid the toothpaste, which bounced off his chest and fell to the floor. “I mean, seriously, bro, _what the fuck_  is going on?” 

“Why? Why would you do that?” Kurt huffed as he carefully unstuck himself from the bathroom wall, which he had climbed halfway up in a panic. 

“Well, shit, I dunno, man. Jubes tells me you and ‘Ro had some kinda not-date date on Saturday and now everything’s ** _ **weird**_**  and _****stupid****_ , so I’m just kinda curious as to _what the Christ_  you actually did…” Peter rambled as he leaned against the bathroom counter, chewing his gum obnoxiously. 

Kurt’s mouth hung open in want of an actual reply when the bathroom door swung open. Scott marched in authoritatively, and addressed Kurt immediately. “Sorry, man. I tried to stop him, but, like…you know how he is.” He waved his hand in Peter’s direction as Peter rolled his eyes. 

Peter turned to Scott and motioned to him. “So, what? You’re not the least bit interested about what’s been fucking up our whole group dynamic?” 

Scott shrugged. “Well, sure, but I figure that if it was our business, we’d know.” 

“Newsflash! It is our business, because now group activities are too awkward for words.” Peter shot back. “Plus! I can already hear Jubes being like ‘Kurt’s such an asshole! He made ‘Ro cry! Why are you even friends with him, he’s a dick!’ and then _I_ end up in the doghouse…” 

Kurt stood still pressed against the tile wall, looking equal parts bewildered and distraught. “Did Jubilation say that Ororo was crying?” he asked in a hushed voice. 

“Fuck if I know. She didn’t say specifically. Guess it depends how bad you fucked up a date.” Peter responded casually. 

“There was no date! I’ve never been on a date!” Kurt insisted, looking confused. “If I had thought I was on a date, I would have…worn a different shirt?” 

“That would have made all the difference, I’m sure.” Peter said flatly. 

Scott sighed wearily and walked closer to his friends, leaning on the counter space between Peter and Kurt. “Okay, so…since we’re all here, why don’t you just tell us what happened, so we can all move on with our lives?”

Kurt tipped his head back and covered his face with his hands, groaning heavily. Finally, he lowered his head with a sigh, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Alright, we started off by watching some movies in the TV room. I did not think it was a date. Jubilation was even there for a while.” 

“Yeah Jubes said that. I guess ‘Ro convinced herself it was a date and Jubes tried to talk her down.” Peter added casually. 

“If someone could have told _me_  that, I would have appreciated it.” Kurt said bitterly. Peter shrugged. “Anyway, after Jubilation left, we got quite close on the couch. I was thinking about what you said, Scott, about taking things slowly, and it seemed to be going alright.” 

Scott nodded. “Yep. So far, so good.” 

“Then, towards the end of the last movie, she fell asleep. I intended to just drop her off in her room and go back to my room, but she woke up. She asked me to stay, so I did. Then she started _kissing me_ , which was…a little overwhelming, but mostly nice.” Kurt’s brow furrowed in recollection. 

“Shit, I see where this is going…” Scott mumbled quietly. 

“And then she got on my lap and stuck my tail in her mouth!!” Kurt concluded, throwing his hands up to demonstrate his shock. 

“Okay. _****Hot****_. Continue…” Peter urged, nodding slightly and completely oblivious. 

“ _Nein_! We _did not_  continue. I left!” Kurt cried, completely exasperated. 

Peter crossed his arms and threw his head back in disbelief. “Ha, wow…oh, man…” he rambled before righting himself and taking a deep breath. He stared at Kurt intensely and motioned one hand towards him as he began to rant, “Okay, so, like, you know that old story from the Bible about the dude who’s drowning, and, like, people try to save him and he’s like ‘It’s cool, God’s gonna save me!’ and then a boat comes by to help him, and he says the same thing, and then, like a helicopter comes by and he still sends them away, and then he, like, _dies_  and goes to heaven and is all like ‘God, dude, what gives?’ and God’s like ‘Bro, I sent you people, a boat, a helicopter…’” Peter paused his rapid speech to press his palms together and tip them towards Kurt. “I feel like this is basically you, except God keeps sending you opportunities to get your dick sucked.” 

Kurt stared stone-faced at Peter for several seconds, before taking a slow breath. “Peter, I need you to understand that there were no helicopters in the Bible.” 

Peter threw his hands up in frustration and turned away. Scott sighed. “It’s just that, if someone you _actually do like_  comes on a little strong, it’s probably better to just say something like ‘Can we stop for a minute?’ or ‘Can we take things a little slower?’ rather than just instantly bailing. Because that could be confusing and hurtful.” he explained calmly. 

“I tried to say something, but I don’t think she knew what I meant.” Kurt frowned. “English is not my first language. It is hardly even my second language.” He looked downward before mumbling “This is why we should have learned Conflict Deescalation rather than Sex Ed.” 

“Besides, there isn’t really any reason for you to be nervous, anyways. ‘Ro seems like a pretty straight shooter, she’d probably just tell you what she wanted you to do.” Peter added helpfully. “Hell, you could probably just lie there and she’d be okay with doing all the work.” 

“Not helping, Peter.” Scott muttered under his breath. 

Kurt scowled and shook his head. “There’s no way I could have let things go any further then it did. I can hardly touch people as it is. If I open-mouth kissed someone, they’d probably need stitches.” 

“Well, that's ****dumb****.” Peter snapped. 

“YOU TOLD ME I COULD MURDER SOMEONE!” Kurt yelled, recalling Peter’s ‘lesson’ from last week. 

“NO I DIDN’T!” Peter yelled back. 

“Uh, hate to be ‘that guy,’ Peter, but you actually did. When you were explaining how to go down on women.” Scott interjected. 

“Huh. Shit.” Peter frowned in recollection. “Well, don’t listen to me. I don’t even listen to me, so no one else should either.” 

Kurt crossed his arms and continued, undeterred. “Regardless, it makes no difference. I don’t think I could do what you do, and be with just anyone.” 

“Pfft. Dude, Jubes isn’t ‘just anyone.’ She’s basically the coolest chick I’ve ever met.” Peter shot back. 

“Well, _ja_ , of course, we all care about Jubilation very much.” Kurt assured. “But my point is that you are constantly telling us she isn’t your girlfriend, and that you aren’t in a relationship.” 

Peter narrowed his eyes at Kurt, trying to formulate a reply. Scott jumped in before he had a chance. “That’s true, but you also freak out at even the slightest perceived threat to your _arrangement_. So, like, what gives?”    

“Fuck, I dunno, man…” Peter shifted awkwardly and briefly looked at his feet. “She’s just, like, _bright_  or something. She has, like, this zest for life and everything in it, and I’ve never met anyone else like that before. And, ****fuck**** , I ****know****  I can be hard on the head, and I can’t really do _relationships_  because either I piss people off before we get anywhere, or I just get bored with them. But she’s got this way of, like, tolerating _some_  of my usual bullshit while also having _zero tolerance_  for the rest of it, that I just haven’t managed to push her away like I have to nearly _everyone else_. And she’s so fun, and funny, and smart, and cool, and open, and down for anything, all the time, that I never worry about whether she can keep up with me. Like, I actually worry that I’m the one that can’t keep up with _her_.” 

“Aw!” Kurt cooed quietly, with one hand to his chest. 

“Jeez. I was expecting, like, a _barrage_  of filth, but that’s actually really touching.” Scott added. 

“Oh, well, that too. She could probably suck a golf ball through a garden hose. Sometimes I’m pretty sure she’s actually trying to remove my soul from my body.” Peter replied with a casual nod. 

“Ugh, there it is.” Scott frowned. He adjusted his glasses slightly and added, “I mean, it sounds like you care about her. Why isn’t she your girlfriend?” 

Peter crossed his arms defensively. “Weren’t you listening? I _like_  her. I don’t wanna weigh her down with a bunch of stupid rules.”   

“Oh? Like how I weigh Jean down with ‘stupid rules _ _’__?” 

“You said it.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with commitment, or thinking of a future together.” Scott explained. 

“Or a white picket fence, two-point-three kids, and a Labrador retriever in the back yard?” Peter said flatly. 

“Sure, why not? Not right away, but who knows what’ll happen in a few years?” 

Peter scoffed bitterly. “Yeah, sure. Why not? Dude, I’ve had _three separate stepdads_! A marriage certificate isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on. If you cared about someone, why would you have to legally tie them to you?” 

“No one’s saying you should go get married, jeez!” Scott replied, throwing his hands up in frustration. 

“Well, that’s where it all leads, isn’t it? That’s the ultimate goal?” Peter ranted with increased intensity. 

“If that’s what both parties want, then sure, but it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. I mean, the way you’re doing things right now, what if Jubes decides to start dating the guy who sells Sno-Cones at the mall?” Scott shot back. 

“Well, I’d be disappointed, but that’s, like, her prerogative.” Peter replied with a slight shrug. 

“Well, okay, but do you ever feel like you two should be something more than just friends?” Scott asked, calmer than before. 

Peter shrugged and looked around. “That’s just it. What’s ‘more _ _’__  than friends? I don’t feel like relationships are a ladder to climb. If everyone’s happy, and no one’s getting used or hurt, what makes it more or less than someone else’s relationship?”    

Scott paused, and furrowed his brow in thought, nodding slightly. Kurt regarded Peter with a slight smile. “That is very thoughtful, Peter. Thank you.” 

“What can I say?” Peter grinned. “Still waters run deep.” 

“You’re not ‘still waters,’ man. Not by a long shot.” Scott said with a smile, shaking his head. He turned to Kurt. “Has any of this helped? You think you got things figured out now?” 

“ _Nein_. I have never been more confused in my life.” 

“Okay, great. We’d better split before we’re late for class.” 

******

 

Ororo sat in the quiet breakfast nook, her head propped up with one elbow on the table, staring into the world’s most disappointing yogurt cup. She did not even look up when Jean smoothly slid into the chair to her right, while Jubilee cheerfully hopped into the chair to her left. 

“Um, good morning?” Jean said, turning towards Ororo. 

“Hmm.” was all Ororo could manage. 

“Wanna tell us why you got your panties in such a bunch?” Jubilee pressed further. 

“This yogurt is awful.” Ororo replied, poking it with her spoon. 

“The yogurt’s fine. The fruit’s just on the bottom. You have to mix it.” Jean offered. 

“Ugh!” Ororo leaned back angrily and let her spoon clatter on the table. 

“Rad, so now that your ‘dairy’ problems are solved…” Jubilee mused, taking the yogurt for herself. 

“Maybe you can tell us what else has been bugging you?” Jean finished. 

“I’m _fine_.” 

“So, presumably, your date on Saturday went well? With everyone returning to their own rooms at a reasonable hour? Because if anything _interesting_  had happened, I’m sure you’d tell us, right?” Jean needled, with a slightly raised eyebrow. 

“It wasn’t a date!” Jubilee said in a quiet, sing-song voice. 

Ororo sighed heavily, crossed her arms, and closed her eyes. “Jean, say what you want to say, or don’t say anything.” 

“I would just like an idea of the sequence of events that took place on Saturday, that managed to shift what Jubes described as a friendly, casual movie night to a _super_ awkward situation on Sunday, where it seems that you and Kurt are _no longer speaking_ , and he’s apparently afraid to look at you.” Jean explained in a neutral tone, with her hands laced together on the table. “I mean, I’m pretty sure I can _guess_  what happened, but I’d like to hear it from you.” 

Ororo looked down and shook her head slightly, before muttering “Fine. It’s not like I can make it any worse.” She went on to describe, using her usual attention to detail, the events of the entire evening after Jubilee had left them alone. When she got to the part where she put his tail in her mouth, Jubilee nodded and said “Nice.” under her breath, at the same instant that Jean huffed “Gross.” The three of them glanced at each other conspicuously for several seconds, until Ororo continued her story. 

When she concluded with Kurt’s abrupt exit, she fell towards the table, putting her head down in her folded arms. “Now I’ve ruined everything, and I have no idea what to do now!” she lamented, before quietly adding “I’ve never been rejected by a man before.” 

“Well, the way I see it-” Jean started, before being interrupted by Jubilee. 

“Wait, what?” Jubilee glared at Ororo incredulously. When Ororo and Jean returned looks of confusion, she elaborated “Like, never? Never ever? Even during your awkward, pimple-faced, no-boob, teenager phase?” 

Ororo shrugged and shook her head. Jubilee leaned back in disbelief. “Like, were the dudes you went with before, like, a bunch of gross sluts or something?” 

Ororo folded her arms and eyed Jubilee warily. “Well, most were other thieves and street urchins I knew, but they were generally respectable young men. Personable. Nice-looking.” 

“One was even a pirate. That’s the coolest type of outlaw.” Jean added helpfully. 

“In that case, maybe you should just take this as an important life lesson in dealing with rejection.” Jubilee said with a nod, as she threw one arm over the back of her chair and motioned towards Ororo with the other. “Welcome to the real world, where you can’t just hop on whatever dick you want.” 

Ororo set her hands in her lap and glared at Jubilee. “If you’re here to insult me and steal my yogurt, then I have nothing to say to you.” 

“I just…I just need to know why you thought a guy like that would fuck on the first date.” Jean interjected, with a hint of bewilderment in her voice. 

“Wasn’t a date, Jean…” Jubilee mumbled under her breath before taking a spoonful of Ororo’s yogurt. 

“I didn’t _plan_  on that, we just…I really thought he was into it, I-” 

“Cuz, like, _everyone_  knows that old-fashioned kinda people don’t put out until the _third_  date.” Jubilee interrupted, with an authoritative nod. 

Ororo furrowed her brow and said a quiet “…Oh.” Jean barely managed to stifle a high-pitched scoff, and looked down, shaking her head. 

“Something you wanna share with the class, Jean?” Jubilee pressed, as she scraped the last bits of Ororo’s yogurt out of the cup. 

“Um, It’s just that _real_  ‘old-fashioned kinda people’ don’t put out on the _third_ date. They typically don’t put out until they’re _actually married_.” 

Ororo’s eyes widened, and she covered her mouth with her hand. Jubilee rolled her eyes. “Maybe, like, a hundred years ago. Nobody does that anymore.” 

Jean shrugged. “Some still do, I’m sure. It’s a pretty big part of basically every religious doctrine ever.” 

Ororo looked down at her lap. “I really have no idea what to do with this information.” 

“First of all, you should probably take a good, hard look at yourself, and try to figure out how desperate, exactly, you are to get your hands on some weird-looking cock.” Jean said, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “That’ll help you plan your next course of action.” 

Ororo gave a scandalized gasp and pointed at Jean. “You said Scott said it wasn’t weird!” she accused. 

Jean rolled her eyes with a huff. “It’s guaranteed to be FUCKING BLUE, ‘Ro!” 

Ororo crossed her arms angrily while Jubilee burst into laughter. “Oh, man…” she sighed, wiping her eye and shaking her head as both Jean and Ororo stared at her. “I love our little chats.” 

Jean sighed heavily and placed her hands gently on the table, palms-down. “Anyway.” she said firmly, to redirect the other two’s attention. “It sounds to me that, based on what he said before he left, he wasn’t actually rejecting _you_ , he was rejectingyour _sexual advances_. If you two have a talk and work out what you both _are_  and _aren’t_ comfortable with, you _may_  still have a chance here.” she explained calmly. 

Ororo looked downward in thought, and then nodded. “That’s probably the mature thing to do.” 

Jean patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Absolutely. At the very least, you can apologize for the ‘tail’ thing, and, like, making things weird.” 

“Alternatively, you can NOT apologize for the tail thing, cuz that’s GOLD, right there.” Jubilee added. Ororo raised an eyebrow and Jean scoffed. “Besides, worst case scenario is that you just ignore the awkwardness and it all just blows over in about a week or so. Just like in high school. Happens all the time.” 

“Uh, I don’t really think that’s a valid option here.” Jean said pointedly. 

Jubilee twirled her pigtail around her finger. “Maybe not for you dorks, but I’ve managed to make ignoring problems until they go away on their own into an art form. You could both stand to take a page or two from my book.” 

Jean shook her head, while Ororo reached back and picked her backpack off the back of her chair. “Well, one problem that won’t go away if we ignore it is our Sex Ed class. We’d better get going.” 

“There’s no rush!” Jean replied with an easy smile. “You know Raven’s gonna be late!” 

Jubilee hopped off her chair and tossed the spoon in the sink and the empty yogurt cup in the trash. “Totally! I feel like, in her world, _we’re_  the problem she’s trying to ignore until it goes away…” 

“True, but there’s no way she can teach a class like the one on Friday, and not expect full attendance on Monday. She can ignore us all she wants. We’ll go searching for her if we have to.” Ororo added, throwing her bag over her shoulder. 

“Oooh, she’d hate that! I love it!” Jean smirked, as they all made their way to their classroom.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is the title of a 1966 The Mamas And The Papas song. I picked it because the chapter takes place on a Monday. Yeah, I'm clever like that. Please hold your applause.  
> Also, Peter's "story" is definitely not in the Bible, with or without helicopters.   
> Next chapter is the second and final Sex Ed class! Prepare for second-hand embarrassment!


	21. Break My Stride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the ciiiiirrrr-cle of liiiiiiiife......

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some semi-graphic descriptions of medical emergencies. Whole lotta dick talk. Mild spoilers for the movie Alien (1979).

The boys trudged begrudgingly towards their classroom, with all the enthusiasm of a bowl of room-temperature mashed potatoes. “Y’know…” Peter started in a disinterested tone as they walked, “I can’t say this class has taught me anything useful about, like, _sex_ , but it does make me kinda wanna run away and start my own condom farm…” 

“You mean a rubber tree plantation?” Kurt offered. 

“Yeah. Like, if this X-Men thing doesn’t work out.” Peter nodded. “Like, I think there could be a market for, like, specialty condoms…” 

“Oh, definitely.” Scott agreed. 

“Free-range, organic…” Peter continued to ramble. 

“Deluxe, custom-fitted protection for -and by- a _diminutive_  gentleman…” Scott finished Peter’s sentence with a smirk. 

“Don’t go there, bro- I’ve seen your junk.” Peter said smugly, with a sideways glance towards Scott. 

“Pfft. _I’ve_ seen _your_  junk, and _that’s_  why I went there.” Scott grinned and didn’t even look in Peter’s direction. 

Kurt sighed and shook his head. “If this ends up being an _actual_ competition, please keep in mind that I refuse to recognize any measurements conducted using Imperial units.” 

As they turned the last corner, Peter looked back to Kurt and smiled. “That’s cool! Everything sounds bigger in centimeters anyways!” 

Kurt’s eyes lit up. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”   

Scott pushed the classroom door open, and Hank looked up from his stacks of papers spread across his desk to acknowledge his students. “Good morning, gentlemen!” 

Kurt’s “ _Guten Morgen _.__ ” was accompanied by a polite nod, while Peter motioned his arm towards Hank and mumbled an unenthusiastic “Hey, big guy.” 

Hank stood and crossed his arm as the three students filed past. “I hope we won’t be having a repeat of Friday’s class.” he stated firmly. 

“God, me too. If I have to take that many notes again, I’m going to get carpal tunnel syndrome.” Scott replied, throwing his backpack of the back of his chair. 

Hank scoffed and looked away briefly, moving his hands to his hips. “I was actually referring to the attitude problem. We have just as many notes as last class. Probably more, considering how much time you three wasted.” 

Scott sat in his chair with a huff. “Aw, man!” Peter complained childishly. 

Hank ignored them and walked towards the chalkboard. “Now, as I said, we have a lot of material to cover today. But, like last class, I did allot some time for open discussion. Does anyone have any questions before we get started?” he asked, turning towards his students while tapping the chalkboard with chalk.

“Dude, we have been _wracking_  our _brains_  for questions we think you might _actually_ be able to answer…” Peter groaned, leaning back over his chair and scratching his head.   

“Well, I’ll remind you again that I ****am****  a medical doctor, so there’s actually very little I can’t answer.” 

Peter mumbled in annoyance under his breath while Scott raised his hand. Hank acknowledged him with a quick nod. “So, I have a question that you might be able to help me with. Y’know, if you can. It’s okay if you can’t…” 

Hank set down the chalk and shrugged. “Try me. What’s the question?” 

Scott leaned back in his chair and crossed his ankle across the opposite knee. “So, are those ‘ribbed for her pleasure’ condoms worth the extra eighty-nine cents?” 

Hank’s mouth fell open soundlessly while Peter scoffed loudly and turned to Scott. “Pfft. Depends. Is ‘her pleasure’ worth eighty-nine cents to you?” 

Scott sat straighter in his chair. “Well, _obviously_ , yeah, if they actually worked that way. But, like, are they a scam? Cuz they’re not worth the extra money if it’s just a scam.” 

“Huh. Yeah.” Peter looked down in consideration. “I guess I just assumed they did studies or something. Did they do studies, Hank? Like, where people plow and a bunch of white-coat dudes rate the performance and stuff?” 

“Actually, yes, Peter. There are _various_  institutes where research into the physiological and psychological aspects of human sexuality is conducted. Most are associated with medical schools.” Hank explained. Peter nodded slightly while Scott silently laced his hands together on his desk, looking towards Hank. Hank finally noticed and pointed towards Scott with his chalk in-hand. “Oh! And I think I _may_  have an answer for you as well…” 

“Hmm. This should be good.” Scott mumbled under his breath. 

“So, essentially, the purported function of this type of prophylactic is to increase vaginal stimulation during heterosexual intercourse, through the addition of a ridged texture to the shaft of the penis. That’s pretty clear. But why would that be advantageous in the first place? I’m not sure it’s been clinically proven, but there are a couple theories…” 

Hank moved back to the chalkboard and started writing point-form notes and rough figures as he spoke. “One major theory has to do with the very high rate of circumcision in North America. As seen in this diagram, the removal of the foreskin reduces the amount of loose skin on the erection, which would alter the surface texture, and therefore sensation for one’s partner during intercourse. The theory is that these “ribbed” condoms are an attempt to compensate for that.” 

Scott nodded thoughtfully and tapped his pencil on his notebook. “So…worth the extra money or not?” 

“Eh…probably not. It’s likely a marketing gimmick.” Hank confirmed with a shrug.   

Kurt leaned towards Scott and muttered quietly “You should take that money and buy her candy, though.” 

Scott smiled. “That’s actually a great idea. Jean loves candy.” 

“Yeah, dude. Get her a bag of gummy worms.” Peter smirked. “That way, she’ll have something to remind her of you when you’re away.” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Language, gentlemen.” Hank stated sternly. He surveyed the room for a second before adding “Anything else before we move on?” 

“Um…” Kurt raised his hand tentatively. “Why is it…you just mentioned…” He looked down at his notebook and flipped through the pages nervously. “Growing up in Europe- I don’t want to insult anyone but I’m curious-” 

“You wanna know why almost every American dude is cut, right?” Peter interjected. 

“ _Ja_ , basically.” 

“I never really thought about it growing up, but it turns out that, like, my dad’s Jewish, so it’s convenient in retrospect…” Peter rambled. 

“Oh, I completely understand that there are religious reasons. Growing up, I thought that was the only reason.” Kurt explained, “But here, it seems like almost everyone has had it done, and for no clear purpose…” 

“I was told it was to make it look bigger.” Scott added, with a self-satisfied look on his face. 

“But there is _literally_  less of it.” Kurt replied gently. 

“Yeah, but all the important parts are still there.” 

“I feel like it’s _all_ important…” 

“Maybe it’s just, like, the American way.” Peter interrupted. “Land of the free, home of the brave- free circumcision with completion of American citizenship application…” 

Kurt wrung his hands and shrank into his seat. “Oh. I will just stay German, if that’s okay…” 

“Don’t listen to him. He’s making things up.” Hank insisted, attempting to regain control of the class. He adjusted his glasses and moved back to the chalkboard. “This is another question I can answer!” he stated proudly. 

“Wow. We’re on a roll.” Scott said sarcastically.   

Hank ignored him and started quickly writing on the chalkboard. “So, as we already covered, circumcision has been performed as a rite by multiple ethnic and religious groups for thousands of years. But, in America, in the late nineteen-hundreds, it became popular among the general population. It was purported to prevent several types of illness, but mainly it was said to reduce rates of masturbation.” Hank finished writing and turned to face his students. “Future generations followed suit, because it had become the norm.”   

“Hmm. Does it work like that?” Kurt asked, with his head tilted in confusion. 

Peter threw his head back and laughed. “Haha, oh, man…” he wheezed as he wiped a tear from his eye, once he was finally able to speak. “No. No it does not. Not at all, nope!”   

“Alright, can we move on now?” Hank asked, as he erased the previous notes from the board. “We have a lot of work to do.”

 

The next segment of the class was a long, boring discussion about the intricacies of dating while mutant. It focused mostly on what to expect when dating a non-mutant, including when to let them know about your mutation. In typical ‘Hank’ fashion, the information was presented in a drawn-out, dry, and overly-clinical manner. There were several decision trees and a pie chart. 

“So, to conclude, when do you three think is the best time to discuss mutation with a potential partner, and how would you best approach that? Hank asked, turning away from the board.    

“Oh, _immediately_. Maybe even from a distance of one-hundred meters or more.” Kurt explained, turning to a blank page in his notebook. “The chance that she might find it off-putting is outweighed by the relief she would feel to know that she wasn’t hallucinating.” 

Scott smirked and nodded. “Valid point. Personally, I’m planning on letting my _mutant_  girlfriend who I met at _mutant_ school know that I’m a mutant at some point in the next six to eight months.” Hank rolled his eyes as Scott continued. “Ideally, after she meets my parents, but, like, before we get invited as a couple to a family wedding or something. That might be a good time to let her know that this-” He waved his pen vaguely at his glasses.”isn’t astigmatism.” 

“If we aren’t going to take this seriously-” Hank interjected over the light round of chuckling. 

“I _was_  serious.” Kurt insisted. 

“So, like, all you really gotta do is find out for sure that they’re not some kinda anti-mutant extremist who’s gonna cut your throat in your sleep. Then, it’s fair game.” Peter argued. “Personally, I find the whole ‘hey, I’m a mutant’ discussion is best framed as a ‘look what I can do’- style party trick. Really cuts the tension.” 

“ _Danke_. That’s good.” Kurt said quietly as he jotted down notes. 

“Okay, maybe…but what about power usage in relationships? That can have serious consequences, whether your partner is a mutant or not.” Hank argued, trying to keep the discussion grounded. 

“I really can’t think of a good reason to optic-blast a girl.” Scott replied, frowning and shaking his head. 

“Teleportation is very convenient. I like to think someone might consider it a reason to get to know me better.” Kurt mused pleasantly.   

“For sure, but let’s be honest. We know chicks are more interested in the tail.” Peter pointed out, as he leaned back and laced his fingers behind his head. 

Kurt crossed his arms, unamused. “My tail is not a ‘power.’ It’s just a limb.” He punctuated this by using his tail to point at Peter. 

“Yeah, but, like, I don’t have one! And I’d go freakin’ nuts with it if I did!” Peter argued, waving his hands around. 

“Perhaps that is why you don’t have one. God knew you wouldn’t be responsible with it.” Kurt replied with a stern nod. 

“It’s just like- some of us have different abilities than others! Like, _sexually_. It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” Peter continued to ramble, shifting around in his chair and gesturing wildly as he did. “Like, I’ll admit there’s some stuff I can do, that, like, other guys can’t! That’s an advantage, and I’m going to use it.” Kurt shrugged and scratched his head uncomfortably. 

Hank cleared his throat loudly, to try and redirect the discussion. This only succeeded in attracting Peter’s attention. “I mean, like, what about you, Hank? When you go on a date, do you go as a boring, beige nerd, or do you go as ‘blue-guy’ Hank, who’s, like, huge and ripped and hairy and almost definitely-” Peter paused to motion vaguely towards Hank’s crotch. “has more to _work with_.”     

Hank’s mouth dropped open as he struggled to come up with a response. “Heh. Boring, beige nerd…” Scott mumbled under his breath with a chuckle. 

“ENOUGH!” Hank yelled, trying to be as intimidating as his ‘boring beige nerd’ form would allow. “This classroom is not a place to discuss my private life! Or… _parts _!__ ” 

Peter shrugged casually. “I’m just saying- people like having options.” 

Hank huffed in frustration while Scott continued to laugh to himself. Kurt wrung his hands some more and looked upwards, trying to get his thoughts together. “Peter, it’s just…” he explained delicately, “when your mutation is more physical, you need to be cautious with people. They can easily become frightened, or injured if things go too far. And some see something strange and become…fixated? They don’t always act in their own best interest.” Kurt paused to let that sink into Peter’s head, and when he got only a disinterested shrug in return, he added “Perhaps Doctor McCoy is also concerned about accidentally murdering someone.” 

Hank let his shoulders slump and his head tilt in confusion. Peter threw his hands up and let out an exasperated sigh. “Fuck, man, you’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” 

Kurt shrugged and redirected his attention to his notepad. Hank took off his glasses and glanced around at his students warily. “Alright, I’m not even going to ask how ‘murdering people’ has entered this conversation.” 

“That’s for the best.” Scott agreed. 

“But, that said- this isn’t a laughing matter.” Hank added, as he put his glasses back on. “Many identified mutations have the potential to injure - or even kill- a potential partner if proper care isn’t taken. For example, a woman in Milan was identified as a mutant when it became apparent that she unleashes a powerful electromagnetic pulse upon, um, climax…” Hank paused until the snickering died down. No laughing matter, indeed. “Another example is a man in New Delhi who’s skin heats up upon emotional or physical arousal- eventually reaching a maximum temperature of four-hundred degrees centigrade. Can you imagine what would happen if he didn’t warn someone?” 

Scott scoffed. “Really, the only difference is when this guy says ‘use protection,” he means one of those tinfoil suits that volcano scientists use.” Hank ran his hands down the sides of his face, looking exhausted as he did so. 

Peter sprawled his legs out, and stretched his arms up and behind him as he spoke. “Okay, big guy, I get what you’re saying about, like full disclosure and stuff. I really do.” He let himself collapse bonelessly into his seat and scratched the back of his head. “But, like, if wild mutant sex is how I die, then that’s just how I die. Beats dying of, like, cancer or a heart attack, like some normal sucker.” 

Hank glowered down at Peter and crossed his arms. His last scrap of patience appeared to have fled his body. “Actually, Peter, when you consider that your _resting_  heart rate is over three-hundred beats per minute, you are at a _considerably_  higher risk of cardiovascular disease than the ‘normal sucker.’” 

Peter’s eyes went wide and his mouth fell open in a gasp. He repeated a breathy “Holy shit, oh fuck-” over and over, and his two friends eyed him with concern as he appeared a couple of shades paler. 

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Scott asked, as he noticed Peter bring his hand up to clutch the fabric of his Jethro Tull t-shirt. 

“Peter, calm yourself. I’m just saying you need to mind your lifestyle, eat less processed foods, and be wary of the signs of early cardiovascular changes.” Hank stated plainly, with his hands on his hips. The frustration in his voice was palpable. “I’m not saying you’re going to drop dead any minute.”   

Peter gasped again, and his expression became even more dire. Kurt teleported the short distance between his desk and Peter’s, standing behind Peter and grasping his shoulders supportively. With intense, uncharacteristic agitation, he locked eyes with Hank and spat “Stop it! You are scaring him!” Hank reeled back in shock. 

“Guys? _Guys_?! Is it getting cold in here?” Peter muttered in a wispy voice, still clutching his shirt. “Is it getting _darker_!?” 

“ _Nein_! No, it’s fine. You’re fine. Just take a deep breath…” Kurt assured, patting Peter’s shoulder. “Doctor McCoy is just teasing! He was just annoyed with you, and lashed out! That’s all…” 

“That’s patently false.” Hank replied, shaking his head and frowning. He went completely ignored. 

Peter tried to slow his breathing and peered up at Kurt tentatively. “You- you really think so?” Kurt smiled and nodded vigorously. 

“We ****know****  so, man.” Scott jointed in, crouching at Peter’s side opposite to Kurt. “Hank doesn’t know any more about hearts than he does about G-spots!”    

“That’s not true at all! I know ****lots**** more!” Hank protested. 

Peter took a deep breath and exhaled, slow and shaky. He was still a little pale but had stopped clutching his chest. He glanced appreciatively at his two friends. “Thanks, guys. Don’t know what I’d do without you!” 

Kurt shrugged pleasantly. Scott patted Peter’s arm and replied “Don’t even mention it!” with a friendly smile. 

Hank, still completely ignored, threw his head back in frustration and ran both hands through his hair. He wandered back up to the chalkboard and tapped the chalk against it repeatedly, just to drown out the sounds of his students chattering behind him. This was going to be the longest class of his life. 

******

 The girls congregated at the back of the otherwise deserted classroom, pleasantly chatting and setting out their class supplies. Raven hadn’t arrived yet- no surprise there- but that did nothing to dampen their moods. 

Jean sat on the top of a desk, facing away from the front of the classroom, with her legs dangling off the side, so she could see her friends better. She sipped coffee out of her travel mug and watched Ororo arrange her pens and papers. “’Ro, I was wondering…” she started, as she swirled her mug around, “Can you think of any reason why we had a fifteen-minute hailstorm at five in the morning?” 

Ororo cringed and looked down briefly before looking back at Jean. “We had a hailstorm this morning because that’s what it felt like my uterus was doing.” she explained, looking slightly embarrassed. “Sorry about that.” 

Jean waved Ororo’s apology away vigorously. “Shit, don’t apologize! I feel your pain! Maybe not as, um, _loudly_ \- but we’ve all been there.” 

“Hey! Maybe that, like, partially explains the way things went down for you on Saturday.” Jubilee pointed out. “Coulda just been hormones making you make irrational dick decisions!” She paused before muttering “Ha! Irrational dick-cisions…” under her breath. 

Jean, with a mouthful of coffee, looked at Ororo and nodded while pointing at Jubilee. Ororo slumped into her chair and sighed. “No, sorry. I think that was all me.” 

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of! It happens!” Jean insisted, having swallowed her coffee. “Hell, a couple of days before my period, I always wake up in the morning wondering why I can’t decide if I want some cock or a tub of chocolate ice cream-” 

“It’s a free country, Jean. Why restrict yourself to one or the other?” 

Jean’s mouth dropped open and Jubilee had to suppress a laugh as Raven’s voice resounded through the classroom. Jean turned around quickly to see Raven setting her stuff down on the teacher’s desk. “Um, we were just joking around!” Jean claimed, with a sunny smile. 

Raven shrugged and walked towards the girls. “I mean, I’ll take your word for it, but I don’t give a crap. I’ve been there.” 

Jean moved from the top of the desk to the seat, breathing a small sigh of relief as she did so. Raven stopped to lean back against one of the desks a row ahead of the girls, bracing her hands against it and crossing her ankles casually. “From what I’ve heard, I don’t need to go over anything about the menstrual cycle. You guys got that figured out by now, I think.” She waited for the girls to stop snickering before adding “That is, unless you guys don’t know about the whole ‘women in close quarters syncing up their cycles’ thing…”   

“Um, yeah we know. We kinda already did that.” Jubilee pointed out. “Sorry for not including you.” she added quietly. 

Raven laughed and shook her head. “Pfft, that’s fine. I’m just glad you guys actually bothered to show up for the second class.” 

“Are you kidding!? We wouldn’t miss this!” Ororo exclaimed. “We even had a plan to go find you if you skipped out on us!” Raven tilted her head in surprise. 

“It’s just- it’s so refreshing to have a class like this that isn’t just a bunch of tired bullshit about, like, _chewing gum_  or _cows_!” Jubilee gushed. 

Ororo held her hands up in a pause, frowning slightly. “I’m sorry- cows?” 

“Oh, right! You’ve never heard the cow analogy! Boy, are you in for a treat!” Jean replied, heavily sarcastic towards the end. 

“So this is basically what passed as Sex Ed when I was your age…” Raven explained, with a sweep of her hand. “Basically, some uptight old ninny would lecture you like ‘No one’s going to buy the cow if they get the milk for free!’” She wagged her finger at the girls mockingly, and may have used her powers to inflect a wavering old-lady-ish tone to her voice. 

Ororo furrowed her brow in consideration. “That makes no sense.” 

“Yeah we know. It’s dumb as hell.” Jubilee nodded. “Essentially, you’re the cow.” 

Ororo frowned. “The ‘milk’ is sex.” Jean added, before taking a sip of her coffee. 

Ororo’s displeasure only deepened. “And the farmer or whatever who’s considering buying the cow? That’s your hypothetical future husband.” Raven flitted her hands about to demonstrate the importance of the ‘husband’ part. She leaned back harder against the desk and crossed her arms. “What it’s saying is that if you have sex outside of marriage, your potential suitors won’t offer commitment, because they are already getting what they want without putting in any effort.” 

“It still doesn’t make any sense.”Ororo replied after some thought. She straightened up in her chair, and held her chin higher. “Farmers don’t just consume milk. They sell it for a profit. The man in this analogy is not my husband. He is my pimp.” 

“Oh shit.” Jean muttered under her breath. “That completely checks out. The cow doesn’t get anything from the arrangement other than an obligation to provide milk in exchange for having it’s most basic needs met.” Ororo tipped her hand towards Jean in acknowledgement. 

Raven grinned. “See? You guys don’t need me. You have it figured out already.” 

“Yeah! Take that, Mrs. Pendergast!” Jubilee exclaimed, thrusting her fist in the air. 

“Oh, don’t tell me Pendergast has been teaching this bullshit to the younger students?” Raven pressed, suddenly very serious. 

“Well, not the ‘cow’ stuff specifically, but she did say that the most effective type of birth control pill was an Aspirin that you hold between your knees.” Jubilee elaborated. 

Ororo rolled her eyes. Jean scoffed and said with a smirk, “She apparently forgot humans are capable of bending forward…” 

Raven suppressed a laugh and shook her head. Once the giggles died down, she said “The thing is, Jean, that anyone who gives that type of advice is too old and arthritic to bend anymore.” 

Another round of laughter swept the class. Raven smiled and stood up off the desk she had been on. “Anything else?” she asked, and when she received no reply, said “Moving on…”

 

The next couple of hours consisted largely of group discussion of a variety of topics effecting young women, young mutants, and young mutant women. Hardly a single note was written on the board, and Raven paced around the classroom randomly as she moved through a combination of advice, explanations, and personal anecdotes. At the moment, she sat cross-legged on top of one of the empty desks close to where the girls were sitting, hunching forward slightly and moving her hands as she moved through a long, meandering story. 

“One of the things about being an X-Man that you guys don’t get right now is that there are going to be a lot of international travel and meeting different mutants from all over the world.” Raven splayed her arms wide, evoking the size of the globe. “I’m telling ya- best years of my life! A lot of _opportunities_ \- to meet _interesting people_ …” She paused with a wistful smile and a downward glance, before becoming more serious and pointing towards the girls, adding “That is, unless you guys do _the stupid thing_  and get, like, married at twenty-two or some shit…”    

Jubilee peered side-on at Jean, with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. Jean raised both hands in defense and shook her head silently. 

“Anyway, where was I going with this?” Raven mumbled, with one elbow on her knee and the opposite hand on her hip. “Oh, right! Communication!” she said with a snap of her fingers. “So, communication is one of those ideas that everyone pays lip service to. Like, ‘Communication is important!’ but what does that really mean? Especially when it comes to sex, which people have trouble talking about at the best of times…” Raven paused to make sure the girls were paying attention. 

“Add in the whole ‘mutant’ thing, which can really make it weird, let me tell you…” Raven was counting things off on her fingers now. “And if you’re abroad you can often get a language barrier- it’s just layers and layers of ambiguity that you don’t need.” Raven hopped off the desk and started pacing the rows. “And the worst thing you can do is just assume that someone else is on the same page as you, just because they seem ‘into it’ - Trust me, a lot of smiling and nodding does not equate to a mutual understanding, in any language.” 

Ororo sat stiffly back in her chair with a stony expression on her face. Jean crossed her arms and peered over at her pointedly until Ororo was forced to return an annoyed, questioning glance. “What? Pay attention!” Jean whispered, gesturing towards Raven. Ororo closed her eyes and clenched her fists for several seconds before redirecting her attention. 

“So, I dunno, say you’re with a guy who mostly speaks Russian- he might act like he knows what ‘pull out’ means, but when you get right down to it, that may not be the case…” Raven rambled, concluding with a casual shrug. “Like, he probably, _technically_ , knows those words in English, but their use in this context might be lost on him, because maybe they don’t use that phrase…” 

Jubilee let her mouth fall open in a scandalized gape, while Jean and Ororo had the decency to either look down or hide their expressions with their hand. 

“So, basically, you just gotta be sure that your partner actually understands you, and neither of you is just along for the ride. Make yourself heard. Make sure your partner is heard. Even if that means putting your pants back on, or breaking a dick if you need to.” Raven paused and tapped her chin before adding, “Oh! And ‘pulling out’ is _not_  a valid form of birth control. You guys should know that. Get on the pill or something, or do like Jubilee’s grandma and keep some condoms with you.” 

Jubilee waved her arm into the air. “Um, I just wanna make it clear that my grandmother just said not to depend on guys. She didn’t go around with a sack of rubbers everywhere she went.” 

“Noted.” Raven said, pointing towards Jubilee. “Now, that pretty much sums up everything I need to cover.” She spun around and squinted at the wall clock. “And we’re early. Is there anything else you guys would like to talk about?” 

Jean and Ororo looked at each other and shrugged, while Jubilee thrust her arm back upwards. “I have something. It’s a little weird.” 

“That’s fine. We’re a little weird. Shoot.” 

“It really more of a questions, with a follow-up question, and possibly a follow-up to that.” Jubilee explained tentatively. Jean and Ororo peered at her, their interest peaked. 

“That’s fine. We have lots of time.” Raven stood around the middle of the classroom, tapping her foot. 

“It’s actually about you, specifically.” Jubilee said with some hesitation. 

Raven sighed and looked down at her feet, shifting uncomfortably for a few seconds. Finally, she pulled her head up and flicked her hair with an easy shrug. “Okay, sure. Hit me.” 

Jubilee’s face lit up with an electric grin, and she drummed the surface of her desk in anticipation. “Sweet! Alright! Here goes…” She sat forward in her chair and held her hands out as she explained, “So, first of all, if you change your form to look like a guy, do you get proper _guy parts_? If so, have you ever used those parts to have sex with someone, like how a guy would? And if so, is sex better for men or for women, and in what way?” 

Raven’s shoulders slumped, and she glared at Jubilee with frustrated bewilderment for a time, before taking a deep breath. “Hmm, okay. So I’m going to disappoint you right off the bat. I can make myself _look_  like I have male anatomy- Hell, I can give myself the most _magnificent_  male anatomy you’ve _ever seen_ \- but unfortunately it’s just window dressing. Just dangles there. Doesn’t work.” She gestured towards her own groin briefly, before standing with both hands on her hips, awaiting Jubilee’s reaction. 

“Aww!” Jubilee whined. 

“Yep. I think that’s the most annoying thing about my powers. Maybe not the penis thing, specifically- well, maybe a little bit. But how I can make myself look like I have things, but not use them.” She moved to lean against the side of a desk, with one foot up on the seat. “Like, I can make myself bigger and taller, but not any stronger. I could easily make myself _look like_  I have Kurt’s tail, but I couldn’t hang off it or really move it that well at all. I once got the bright idea of giving myself a set of wings and trying to glide off the roof, but Hank managed to convince me I’d just plummet to my death…” she trailed off, picking at her cuticles. 

Jubilee slumped onto her desk, dejected. Raven noticed this and straightened up. “But- to answer the last part of your question, think of it this way-” Raven gestured to Jubilee with a smile, and Jubilee perked up instantly. “When your ear is itchy and you scratch it with your finger, what feels better? Your finger or your ear?” 

Jubilee’s face was split by the brightest, most joyful grin, and she clenched her fists and quickly shook them in pure excitement. Jean breathed “Oh, God.” and frowned at her friend. “Jubes! She’s speaking metaphorically! Jubes, don’t get any ideas!” 

“Too late! Ha Ha!” Jubilee squeaked. 

“Do you have any idea what you’ve started?” Ororo complained to Raven, who stared back in silent confusion.   

Raven waited while the hubbub died down, watching as Ororo and Jean whispered in harsh, stern tones to a still-gleeful Jubilee. Finally, she cleared her throat to grab their attention again. “Okay, guys- moving on. Is there anything else, or should we just leave early?” 

“I have one more question.” Jean stated, raising her hand slightly. 

“Shoot.” 

“What’s it actually like having a baby?” 

Raven’s eyes widened and her mouth straightened into a thin line. She looked down and could barely be heard to mutter “Ooooh, _fuck_.” under her breath. She looked back up and peered at Jean quizzically, head tilted. “You guys didn’t cover this in Anatomy class?” 

“Mrs. Pendergast just showed us a couple diagrams and a description of the developing fetus as it relates to the size of different types of fruit.” Jean explained. “And almost every other woman I’ve asked about this gives some sort of hokey ‘miracle of life’ answer, which I feel like is probably bullcrap…” 

“Well, I can confirm that’s bullshit, yes.” Raven replied flatly. 

“I just feel like you’d be honest with us. Woman to woman.” 

Raven leaned back against a desk and tipped her head back, raking her hands through her hair. She groaned heavily and then suddenly faced forward and hopped up onto the desk, crossing her legs. “Okay. Fine. You’re right. Let’s do this.” 

There was a small shuffle of activity as the girls shifted closer and readied their writing utensils. Once they were done, Raven started. “So, first of all, I can’t comment at all about what it’s like to be pregnant. Because I never had any idea I even _was_  pregnant, until I went into labor.” 

“How..?” Ororo muttered in disbelief. 

“I was undercover. Like, deep, _deep_  undercover. I was juggling, like, at least five separate identities, most of which were men. So sue me if I didn’t notice I’d put on a few pounds or if my cycle was out of wack…” Raven hastily explained. 

“...Oh.” 

“So anyway, my base of operations was a Munich safehouse, which -to be clear- was neither safe, nor was it a house. It was a basement bathroom of an abandoned warehouse that had hotplate and a cot. I had some stomach pain while on an assignment, so I made my way back there, but when it got worse and worse, I started to assume I had been poisoned- like, ** **Fuck**** , they finally got me…” 

The girls exchanged shocked, uncomfortable glances. Raven took a breath and continued. “Now, it took me a few hours -probably too long in retrospect- to figure out what was actually happening. But once I did- _whoo _,_ boy_. You guys ever see that movie _Alien_?” 

Jubilee nodded once. 

“Remember the ‘chest-burster’ scene?” 

Jean swallowed and squeaked a “Yes?” 

“Well, that’s childbirth in a nutshell. Exactly that agonizing, exactly that bloody, and innocent bystanders would be exactly that traumatized.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a miracle at all…” Ororo whispered, shaking her head solemnly. 

“You’re right. It isn’t.” Raven confirmed with a serious nod. “And that wasn’t even the worst of it. Once it was all said and done, I’m sitting there on the floor with, like, a _ton_  of blood and a bunch of gross lumps and some fleshy rope. So obviously there’s the placenta and the umbilical cord, but the other thing looked like some weird shivering tumor.” Raven paused to appreciate the shocked expressions of her students. “So, turns out - I didn’t know this, either- that if your water doesn’t break, the baby can be born still wrapped in the amniotic sac. Once I ripped it open, BAM. Baby.” 

“Beats a tumor, I guess.” Jubilee offered tentatively. 

“Eh. Tumors don’t scream. Anyway, I start freaking out cuz this particular baby is extremely blue, and that’s supposed to be bad. I was actually in such shock from the whole thing that I forgot that, you know, _I’M_  supposed to be blue, too.” Raven motioned towards her own face before continuing. “I didn’t know anyone in the area, like, _actually_  know them. I couldn’t go to a hospital on account of the whole ‘blue’ thing. And our assignment was so high-risk that not only could I not be seen with a _blue kid_ , even the sound of crying from the safehouse could jeopardize the whole operation. It was just dumb luck that the circus was in town.” 

“I’m sorry. That sounds awful.” Jean said, in a quiet, regretful voice. 

Raven shrugged. “Well, it was. But it’s good for you guys to hear this, because _nobody told me _,__  and I got caught ** **WAY****  off-guard.” Raven dangled her legs off the side of the desk, swinging them restlessly. “Like, one thing nobody talks about is that there is ** **A LOT****  of blood. For weeks afterwards, too. And that your boobs feel like they’re gonna explode.” She paused to think for a second, adding “Oh! And for like a year after, you wake up at night in a panic thinking ‘Where’s the baby?’ even when there _is no fucking baby_ …it’s just a horror-show from start to finish. I can’t dissuade you enough. Get your tubes tied. If you wanna look after a living creature, get a goldfish or an ant farm.” 

Raven stopped and crossed her arms, waiting to see if they had something to add to the conversation. When it became clear that all three of them had been shocked into silence, she took a deep breath and added, “Now, you’ll have to talk to someone else if you want to know what it’s like to be pregnant and all that stuff. Maybe Jubilee’s grandma. That chick seems like she’s on the level…” 

Jubilee cringed and raised her hand. “Um, she’s actually dead, so…” 

Raven’s expression fell into deep embarrassment. “Oh, shit. I’m so sorry!” she stammered. “I wish I had said something more respectful than ‘that chick is on the level’…” 

“Don’t worry about it!” Jubilee soothed pleasantly. “She totally was ‘on the level,’ so it’s all good.” 

“Okay. Good. Great…” Raven rambled while quickly nodding. “Now let’s all just get out of here before I say something else stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is also the name of the 1983 Matthew Wilder song. It's a fun song, and I think it's a neat song for Peter, although a little ironic in the context of this chapter, because he definitely gets his stride broken for a little while at least.
> 
> So, in this chapter I play a little fast and loose with Raven's powers. In the comics, her powers are more, well, powerful. She generally has more control over body parts she generates for herself (I have seen at least one panel of Raven flying using wings she gave herself). In fact, the writer who invented Nightcrawler wanted his parentage to essentially boil down to Raven giving herself fully functional male anatomy and impregnating her partner, Destiny- essentially making her Kurt's father. But it was the 70's and so it wasn't allowed to happen. Which is a bummer especially considering that when the comics did tackle the whole "Kurt's dad" thing- holy shit did they ever fuck it up. God damn what a disaster of a story line. But anyways. In the movies, the full extent of Raven's powers is a little ambiguous, but I do recall a scene from X1 where she gives herself Wolverine's claws, only to have him cut them off cuz they weren't actually metal. So I reigned in her powers a bit, and threw in a little "Oops." story of Kurt's conception. Either I'm sorry or you're welcome.
> 
> Also, upon re-reading my previous Sex Ed chapter and editing this one, I realize that a few times I wrote somewhat authoritatively about penises. Please note that I am not a penis doctor. I never went to penis school. Please consult a healthcare professional, and not an X-Men fan fiction, for all your penis questions and medical needs.


	22. Some Like It Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles, Raven, Hank, and Erik have a meeting. The X-Men make chili.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty tame chapter. Pretty mediocre chili recipe.

“So, like, how many _alarms_  is this chili gonna be? Twelve? Twenty-one?” Peter asked no one in particular, while grabbing fist-fulls of fresh hot peppers out of the fridge. 

“I’m pretty sure the Chili-Alarm scale only goes up to five…” Jean replied, skimming through the recipe cook. 

“So… about six, then?” 

The X-Men were dispersed throughout the mansion’s large kitchen, completing various chili-related tasks. Ororo had recently harvested the first batch of produce from her garden, a healthy crop of tomatoes and several types of peppers. By committee, they had decided to make chili out of it, after the discussions on salsa had broken down following a disagreement about cilantro. 

It was a Saturday evening, and not much had changed since the previous weekend. Once their Sex-Ed courses were completed, the rest of their training time was devoted to general-skills Danger Room sessions and various chores. Kurt and Ororo were still trying to avoid one another, much to the annoyance of everyone around them. Despite her promise to Jean that she’d talk to him, Ororo seemed to be checking if Jubilee’s ‘ignore it ‘til it goes away’ approach would work in her situation. To compound things, Kurt was making himself exceptionally scarce, choosing to spend his free time in his room, on the roof, in the darkest corners of the library, or working on the Blackbird- anywhere he thought he would go unnoticed. 

Currently, Jean stood with the open recipe book, delegating tasks. Ororo de-seeded and chopped tomatoes, while Peter worked on the peppers. Jubilee diced onions and garlic while Scott was browning the meat. Kurt rummaged through the cupboards, gathering the required dry spices. 

“Scott, you can probably just let the meat cook for a minute or so, and start rinsing off the beans.” Jean called out. Scott nodded and set down his wooden spoon, and walked over the the cupboard where the canned goods were housed. 

He swung open the door and looked up, waaay up. “Well, shit.” he muttered. Anything remotely resembling a can of beans was on the shelf nearest the ceiling, well out of his reach. In addition, his lack of color vision made it hard to tell the labels apart. “Kuuurt…little help?” 

Kurt set down the small collection of dry ingredients he was carrying and made his way towards Scott. On the way, he bumped into Ororo’s elbow, then quickly lowered his eyes the to floor with a quiet “Sorry.” Ororo looked on regretfully while everyone around them just cringed. 

“How can I help?” Kurt asked at Scott’s side. 

Scott pointed up to the cupboard. “Can you pick out some beans for us? You’re taller than me, and I can’t really see them.” 

“Hmm…Not from here…” Kurt mumbled, before teleporting into the space between the cupboards and the ceiling. He sprawled on his stomach in the narrow space, peering over the side and into the highest shelf. “That’s better. What do we need?” 

“About five cans of beans. Red kidney beans, white kidney beans, pinto, black beans…pretty much whatever you can grab…” Jean called up. Kurt nodded and got to work. 

“Cool, so if he’s doing that…” Scott mumbled to himself, and quickly walked out of the room. He was back seconds later, carrying the large jar that his snails lived in. He set it on the kitchen island, and Jean groaned, loudly slamming the recipe book shut. 

“Why the hell are they here?! We’re cooking, it’s gross!” she cried, waving at them with the book in-hand. 

“They’re in a jar, Jean!” Scott insisted. “And they’re almost out of food, so I’m just gonna get ‘Ro or Kurt to tell me what to feed them next!” 

Ororo set down her knife and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. “They are partial to my lettuce. Please help yourself to a leaf in the fridge, or from the garden.” she explained with a smile. 

“They also like the pretty vine with the pink and white flowers. At the treeline, past the duck pond.” Kurt added. 

“That’s called a ‘Morning Glory.’” Ororo corrected. 

“Oh. Sorry.” Kurt muttered quietly into the cupboard. 

“Cool. Thanks, guys.” Scott said with a nod. He turned back to Jean. “So, if I put a bunch of plants with flowers in here, would you still think they were gross?” 

“Oh yeah. Absolutely.” Jean said flatly. Scott sighed dejectedly.     

******

 

Upstairs and down the hall, Hank, Raven, Charles, and Erik sat around a rich-looking oak desk, chatting about their recent developments and future direction. 

“...To summarize, I really think the next seminar class that we hold should address lasers. For the reasons I mentioned, and also because they are cool.” Hank concluded after a long-winded explanation. He sat back in his chair, pleased with himself. 

Charles jotted a few words down on some paper. “Hmm. Noted. Raven?” 

Raven gave a disinterested shrug. “Sure, lasers are neat, I think a Conflict Deescalation course would be a more useful skill set. You know- stop an argument _before_ you get shot full of smoldering holes.” Hank scoffed and shook his head. “Plus it’d shut Kurt and Jean up for ten minutes or so. They’ve been bugging me about it for weeks.” 

Charles jotted more notes while nodding in agreement. Hank looked dejected. 

Raven grinned. “And another thing! I did that dumb class you wanted, and because I was such a good sport about it, I think I should be allowed to get a cool new pistol.” 

“What! Okay, so, for one- the X-Men don’t use guns. Why do you need a pistol? Two- You already ****have****  a pistol! And three- you also have an _assault rifle_! We have no idea where you got it, but I know you have it!” Hank ranted, gripping the arms of his chair. 

“HAD an assault rifle. Kurt broke it. Little shit.” Raven explained with a wave of her hand. “Plus, I just think that having _two_  pistols just suits me better, like-” Raven leaned back in her chair, arms akimbo, finger-guns blazing, “Pchoo-Pchoo-Pchoo!”   

Erik raised an eyebrow in silent amusement while Hank put his head in his hands and huffed a frustrated “Oh my God...” 

Charles took a deep breath and looked at Raven with a pointed “Moving on…” Raven quickly straightened up in her seat. Charles glanced to Raven and Hank. “How did the classes go?” 

Hank made a face. “Well-” 

“Amazing! Just…so good!” Raven blurted. “All the girls really took to it, they’re just a remarkable group of young women.” 

Charles put his hand to his chin and nodded, thoroughly impressed. “That’s excellent news, especially given your previous reservations.” 

“Oh, trust me, I was as surprised as you are.” Raven agreed. “They just all bring their own thing to the table. Like, Ororo? Even-tempered, determined- definite leadership potential, there. Jubilee’s light-hearted and confident but always thinks outside the box!” Raven gushed, “Jean can read people like a book, but I don’t even think she’s reading minds all the time. I think she’s just really intuitive, but not like in a bitchy way…” 

“Oh, good. Because I hate when people are intuitively bitchy.” Hank muttered bitterly. 

Charles shot him a look but Raven pressed on. “Speaking of bitches! That Pendergast chick who’s teaching the younger students has to get gone, like, yesterday! She’s teaching them a bunch of old-timey retro bullshit, and I won’t stand for it.” she ranted, crossing her arms. 

Charles furrowed his brow. “Mrs. Pendergast has over thirty years of teaching experience.” 

“Yep, that’s too many!” Raven insisted. “You know what she taught the female students? She said that the best kind of birth control pill was an Aspirin that you hold between your knees!” Raven tapped the desk for emphasis and awaited a reaction. 

Erik cleared his throat. “But people can bend-” 

“EXACTLY!” Raven yelled, throwing her arms in the air. “In fact- you know who _should_ teach it?” 

“You?” Hank offered sarcastically. 

“Pfft, no!” Raven scoffed. “The girls! They’d be great! And you were saying you wanted the new X-Men more involved in the day-to-day school functions.” Raven gestured to Charles and he nodded in agreement. “They could even tag-team it! They’d love that, cuz there’s always tag-teams in those dumb wrestling shows they all watch…” 

“That’s a fantastic idea. We’ll have to discuss it in more detail at a later time.” Charles turned to Hank. “And how about the male students?” 

Hank’s expression soured. “They’re _assholes_!” 

Raven threw her head back and laughed long and loud, pausing only gasp for breath before laughing some more. Erik took a deep breath and looked to Hank. “If Peter is having behavioral problems, I suppose I could talk to him.” 

Hank opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Raven trying to control her laughter and waving her hands towards Erik. “Don’t bother, Erik- I mean, you can if you want, but Peter’s not an asshole.” she finally managed to say. “He’s immature and he likes attention, but he’s definitely not an asshole.” 

“He called me a boring beige nerd!” Hank insisted harshly. 

“Well, duh. That’s what happens when you teach a group of _mutant_ guys a _mutant_ sexuality course while looking like you work at Radio Shack.” Raven shot back. “You know all the students like you better when you’re fluffy.” 

“Fluffy…!?” Hank sputtered. He adjusted the sleeves of his button-down shirt. “I was just trying to maintain an air of professionalism.” 

“Well, shit. I could look like any person on the planet, but I taught the girls like _this _-__ ” Raven replied indignantly, gesturing to her own blue form, “scales, yellow eyes, and all. I’m sorry I wasn’t more _professional_ …” 

Hank slumped in his chair and Charles help up a hand. “Perhaps we could save this particular discussion for a later time.” 

Raven shrugged. “Fine.” She crossed her arms and gestured to Hank in mock-politeness. “Now, if you could please tell us about the rest of the _assholes_ …” Hank ran both hands down the sides of his face in exasperation. “In particular, I’m curious as to how Kurt is even capable of being an asshole.” 

Hank glared at Raven and narrowed his eyes. “Kurt’s kind of scary!” 

Raven threw her head back and laughed some more. “Pfft! He’s basically a kitten! I WISH he was scary!” 

“He yelled at me!” 

“Oh, I’m sure! About what? Foul language?” Raven mocked. 

“He thought I was threatening Peter, so he yelled at me to stop.” 

“Good. He has a spine. Excellent.” Raven nodded approvingly. 

“I hardly constitute a threat…” Hank muttered, but was ignored. 

“What about Scott? He’s supposed to be the leader, so I’d actually like him to be a bit of an asshole…” Raven asked, moving on. 

“Well, wish granted. He actually usurped control of the classroom from me at one point and started directing the lesson himself.” Hank stated, crossing his arms. 

“And the part of the lesson he taught- was it accurate? Informative? Did the other two understand him?” Charles asked, with his hand on his chin thoughtfully. 

“...Yes?” 

“Then what’s the problem? The leader led.” Raven concluded with a casual shrug. Hank slumped dejectedly into his chair, again. “So what? You let the monkeys run the zoo for a bit. Big deal. All’s well that ends well.” 

Charles nodded. “Well, it sounds like both courses went very well, all things considered-” 

“Ugh.” Hank huffed. 

“So we’ll likely be able to start implementing changes to our curriculum this coming semester- possibly including some staffing changes.” Charles motioned towards Raven, who nodded in acknowledgement. “Now that we’ve dealt with that, we can move on to the main reason we’re gathered here. Erik?” 

“Thank you, Charles.” Erik straightened himself in his chair and laced his fingers together on his knee. “Now, unfortunately, my being here isn’t a social visit-” 

“Ha! I didn’t know you were aware of ‘social visits’ as a concept…” Raven jabbed with a smile. 

“Well, yes, I wish I had the time to drop by more often.” Erik looked down briefly before continuing, “The reason I’m here today is that I’ve come across a disturbing pattern. It’s been brought to my attention by some of my contacts that there have been many instances of stolen or misplaced medical documents of mutants all over America and parts of Western Europe.” 

“Any clue as to who’s responsible? Or where they are getting their information?” Hank asked with concern. 

“None yet, although I do have my suspicions. The people who have been targeted have nothing in common other than that they are mutants. Sometimes, their mutant status wasn’t even known by their own physicians, but their documents were stolen nonetheless.”   

Charles frowned. “This is highly concerning. Is there anything we can do to help?” 

Erik’s expression warmed slightly. “Thank you, Charles. Not right at this moment, but let me tell you how I plan to handle this moving forward…” 

******

 

“How goes the bean search, Kurt?” Jean called up. “We still need two more cans, at least.” 

“I don’t know, Jean, I’m trying…” Kurt replied, pulling his head out of the cavernous cupboard. “There is almost every type of canned food in here, and in no order. There’s a lot of corn.” Kurt had given up on leaning down into the cupboard, and had instead stuck himself to the ceiling and bent severely backwards to get further inside the cupboard, and from a better angle. It was uncomfortable for everyone else to look at. 

“Actually, toss me the corn. We can put corn in chili.” Jean replied, and easily telekinetically snagged the tossed can. “Chili’s like a stew- you can put whatever you want in it.” 

Kurt pulled his head back out of the cupboard again, brandishing a can of mushrooms. “Do mushrooms go in it?” 

A round of noncommittal murmurs and mumbling was heard throughout the room, with the exception of Jean’s enthusiastic “Yep!” and Jubilee’s harsh “Fuck no!”   

“I just think they add a depth of flavor, and a nice texture…” Jean explained delicately. 

“ _I think_  you can eat your gross dirt lumps out in the yard with the rest of the animals.” Jubilee stated intensely. Jean raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips, quickly redirecting her attention to the recipe book. 

“So…I will put these back, then…” Kurt muttered to himself. 

At the other end of the kitchen island, Peter was sorting through the peppers Ororo had grown. He had already chopped the sweet bell peppers, and was ready to move on to the hot peppers. “So, which ones are which? What ones have the most kick?” 

“The green ones have a nice, medium heat. The orange ones are very hot, though.” Ororo explained. 

“Gotcha. So I’ll do the orange ones, then…” 

“Peter, come on, man. Don’t make it too hot.” Scott pleaded. “I wanna actually eat some.” 

“Dude, you can’t make a chili that’s not spicy!” Peter argued. “Otherwise it’s just tomato soup with beans.” 

“I’m just asking that you don’t go overboard.” Scott added. “Every time we cook, we have this argument…” 

“Scott has a point, Peter.” Kurt called down from the ceiling. “Maybe you should talk to Doctor McCoy before making the food too spicy. It may not be healthy for someone in your delicate condition.” 

Scott snickered and turned back to the ground beef while Peter dropped his arms to his sides and stared up at Kurt, unamused. He finally pointed at Kurt with his knife in-hand. “Don’t make me come up there!” Kurt grinned and went back to his search. 

“Wait- ‘delicate condition’?” Jean scoffed. “What are you- fucking _pregnant_  or something?” 

Peter’s mouth dropped open in embarrassment, but only a drawn-out “Aaaaahhhh…” was heard.   

“Better fuckin’ not be!” Jubilee called out from the opposite corner of the kitchen. 

“Well, that explains why you three had so much more notes than us.” Ororo said matter-of-factly. “Your class had to transcend medical science.” 

“I mean, it’d be the cutest baby who ever existed, obviously…” Jubilee mumbled to herself. 

“Well, yeah. That goes without saying.” Peter agreed, finally having found his voice. 

“Doesn’t change the fact that babies are awful.” she mumbled again, with a small smirk. 

“Oh, yeah. They’re the worst.” Peter nodded. 

“Basically what happened, is that Hank told Peter that his heart runs faster than normal, so he should watch himself, health-wise…” Scott explained. “Peter, uh, didn’t really handle it that well. Had a bit of a, um… _moment _”__  

“Well, like- how would you react if someone said you could drop dead at any second?” Peter exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. 

“For one- he didn’t say that, _at all_. For two- just seconds prior, you said, and I quote- ‘If wild mutant sex is how I die, then that’s just how I die!’- end quote.” Scott argued, motioning towards Peter with a wooden spoon.   

“Omigawd, that’s awesome!” Jubilee shouted. “I totally want that on a T-shirt!” 

“I’m thinking motivational posters and bumper stickers!” Ororo agreed. 

“I get it, Peter- I’d be pissed if I missed out on my opportunity to die from wild mutant sex, because I already died of a heart attack.” Jean said with a smile, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Peter glared smugly at Scott and motioned towards the girls. Scott rolled his eyes and turned back towards the ground beef.   

“I’m just glad to hear no-one is pregnant.” Ororo said, as she diced another tomato. “Frankly, we are _just barely_  handling the responsibility of cooking this chili. A baby would be too much.” 

“Oh yeah. We are essentially train wrecks.” Scott agreed, nodding seriously. “We would raise the _weirdest_  kid…” 

“Yup. The only person who would be happy about me having a kid would be my mom.” Peter pointed out. 

“Really?” Jean said quizzically. “I don’t wanna be mean, but didn’t you say your mom is a functional alcoholic?” 

Peter nodded vigorously. “Yup! Well, maybe semi-functional…” he said, looking upwards and shrugging. “But what no one tells kids your age is that after age twenty-five or so, your parents go from ‘Get a girl pregnant and I’ll nail your sack to a tree.’ to ‘Where are my grandbabies? I’m not getting any younger!’ _Constantly_. It’s super-annoying.” 

Jean frowned slightly. “Oh. That does sound annoying.” Scott did a half-smile and shrugged silently. 

Ororo cringed. “Thank the Goddess I’m an orphan.” 

Kurt glanced up from the cupboard. “It’s also good to have been adopted.” 

Scott peered up at him. “What? You don’t think Raven will bug you for grandkids?” 

“I would say that’s highly unlikely.” 

“I’m fine as long as Mittens is alive. He’s basically my parent’s baby now.” Jubilee mused. 

“Oh, I had forgotten! How is Mittens doing?” Kurt called down, with his hands clutched together and a concerned look on his face. 

“Uuhh…” Jubilee looked dumbfounded. 

“Yes, Jubilee. How is your cat?” Ororo repeated, staring at Jubilee intently with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh right!” she breathed, before straightening herself up. “Um, he’s great! It was a hairball.” 

Kurt grinned and returned to work, while Jubilee cringed at her own near-miss and did the same. 

******

 

Erik had all but finished talking about his investigation, and where he thought it might be headed. The other three listened intently, occasionally taking notes and asking questions. 

“So, it’s too soon to say where this will all lead. However, if my suspicions are correct- and I like to think they usually are- there may come a time in the near future where I may reach out for some assistance.” Erik explained with his usual stern, yet calm demeanor. “Possibly the assistance of some of the newer X-Men, depending on the skill sets I require.” 

Erik paused to see how his request would be received. Charles nodded thoughtfully but remained silent. Raven finished scribbling a note and popped her head up suddenly. “Yeah, sure! Not a problem. Just say where and when.” 

“Now, I’m not sure exactly what this would entail. I’m hoping it’s just information tracking, but I can’t be sure. It could be more dangerous and complicated then it currently appears.” Erik added. 

“Yeah that’s fine.” Raven reiterated, nodding. “They’re _good,_ and they’re ready for more intense fieldwork. Take whichever ones you want. Hell, take all of them.” 

When Erik stared back with mild confusion, she added “Frankly, whatever gets them out of the house. You know what they’re doing right now? On a Saturday night, in the summer, when it’s beautiful outside?” She drummed her fingers on the desk, awaiting a response. 

“Please tell.” 

“They’re all in the kitchen, making a pot of chili. As a group. Like a bunch of old church ladies.” 

“That’s just economical thinking.” Hank pointed out. 

“It’s _weird _,__  Hank!” Raven protested. “They should be getting out more! Sneaking out! Dating! Drinking! Doing young-people things! Hell, when I was their age- well, maybe the less said about that, the better- but the point is they could stand to get out of the house and meet new people.” 

“Drinking? They’re all underage, except Peter.” Hank argued. 

“So? Maybe if they ask nicely, he’ll buy them booze.” Raven stated, crossing her arms. Hank glared back indignantly. “Seriously? You never drank under twenty-one? Snuck into a porno theater? Went skinny-dipping?” 

Hank scowled silently. Charles laced his hands together on the desk and turned to Raven. “ _Porno_ _theater_ , Raven?” 

“How is Peter doing, by the way?” Erik interjected, possibly just to keep the conversation from going further south. 

Raven shrugged. “He’s fine. He can have trouble staying focused but he generally does well over all. He gets along well with everyone, which is a little odd, because he’s, like, almost ten years older than all of them.” 

Erik nodded. “Any issues I should know about?” 

“Oh, well, he can be an instigator. Of stupid shit.” Raven replied. “He gets bored easily. He likes attention. He likes showing off. But over all, he’s no worse than any of them.” When Erik only nodded silently in response, she added “He’s in the kitchen if you’d rather just talk to him. I’m sure they could stand to lose him for a minute.” 

Erik looked down and nodded again, saying nothing for several seconds. He looked back up at Raven. “And how is Kurt adjusting?” 

“Oh, um…Alright I guess. He’s doing well skill-wise. Taking some classes. His English is improving.” Raven had straightened up in her chair, and wrung her hands. “He’s um…he’s really strange. I can’t relate to him at all. He’s weird.” she blurted, possibly without intending too. She glanced at the three other faces around her. “He’s weird, though, isn’t he?”   

Hank shrugged and scratched the back of his head. “Well, he _is_  a circus kid. It’s an unusual lifestyle.” 

Raven leaned back and tilted her head in consideration for a second. “No, it’s beyond that, I think. He’s just weird. Like, I feel like if Azazel were still alive, even he’d say Kurt was weird.” 

“Well…” Erik started, in a skeptical tone. 

“Okay, yeah, I know. He probably wouldn’t SAY it-” Raven backtracked. “But he’d definitely be like-” She flung her arm away from her and made a vague disgusted noise. 

Charles held one hand up off the desk. “That’s not entirely fair. He gets on perfectly fine with the rest of his teammates.” 

Raven held her hands up in self-defense. “Oh, no! Don’t get me wrong. I don’t DIS-like him. He’s _super_  easy to teach, and he can do some things that are just like…whoa.” She leaned her elbow on the arm of her chair and propped her head up on her hand. “Like, he is just ****great**** at kicking people in the face. Like, heel to bridge of the nose- _every_  time! WHACK!” She moved her hands in animated demonstration, before relaxing back and sighing wistfully, her expression reflecting something almost like pride. “He gets that from my side of the family.” 

“I’m just glad that being a mute psychopath skips a generation.” Hank said flatly. 

Raven ignored him. “Plus he’s always on time, and I hardly have to yell at him. He’s consistently in my top five.” 

Charles raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been ranking them?” he asked in clear disapproval. Raven shrugged and nodded. 

“Top five is really generous, considering there’s six of them.” Hank pointed out. 

“Oh, no. I’m also counting you three, plus the guy who swings by every so often to mow the lawn and stuff.” Raven explained with a smirk. “His name is Greg and he does good work.” 

“How has Peter been ranking?” Erik asked, slightly amused. “I don’t even want to know how I rank.” 

Raven grinned. “Well, you’d rank higher if you visited more often. Peter’s ranking fluctuates a lot, depending on whether _I’m_  the one being subjected to his bullshit at the time.” She gestured to Hank. “For example, after hearing about Hank’s class, he jumped up a few spots for creativity alone.” 

Erik chuckled to himself. Hank sighed and shook his head, but managed to crack a slight smile. “Fine. If it means that much to everyone, I’ll teach my next lecture series while ‘fluffy.’” 

“That’ll bump you up a couple spots, for sure!” Raven replied with a grin. 

Charles folded his arms on the desk. “And how have I been ranking?” 

“You’ll always be number one in my heart.” Raven replied without missing a beat. Charles smiled warmly. “But this list is more pragmatic, and my personal feelings are only a small factor. For example, _Greg_  never made me teach a goddamned Sex Ed class…” 

******

 

Ororo was de-seeding the last of the tomatoes when she noticed Jean staring at her with an annoyed look on her face. Sure enough, not a second later, Jean’s voice rang in her head. * _So, are you gonna talk to him or not?_ * 

Ororo narrowed her eyes in irritation and looked back down at the cutting board. * _I don’t see what business it is of yours._ * she projected to Jean. 

* _Oh, it’s my business. See, the thing about Kurt that you don’t understand is that he thinks really, really loud. But since he thinks in a language I don’t speak, and he’s always in a good mood, he has been the human equivalent of elevator music for me.*_ Jean ranted psychically to Ororo while having an actual, verbal talk with Scott about spices. _*But since you had to go fuck everything up, and then refuse to deal with it, he’s been in turmoil, and with the two of you put together, I have had the worst goddamn headache all week._ * 

Ororo scowled involuntarily at the tomatoes. * _ ** **Jean****. Buy a Walkman and some Tylenol._* 

* _I have a Walkman, but that’s not the point. Fix the mess you made._ * 

Ororo focused on keeping her mind completely blank, attempting to refuse to respond to Jean’s demand. 

Jean was not so easily deterred. * _FIX. IT._ * 

Ororo set down her knife before she managed to reduce her tomato to a fine paste. * _Fine. I’ll try to get him tomorrow when he comes back from church._ * 

* _Now that’s a plan. Keep me posted._ * 

Outside the kitchen and next to the banister running adjacent to the top of one of the mansion’s many staircases, Raven, Charles, Hank, and Erik loitered quietly and observed the X-Men make chili. 

“And you’re sure they can’t see us?” Erik asked skeptically. 

“Yep.” Raven nodded. “That is, as long as we keep quiet and don’t, like, wave our arms around a lot or something like that.” 

“This is exactly like a wildlife documentary.” Hank noted quietly. 

They watched as Kurt pulled a can from the farthest reaches of the cupboard, read the label, and showed it to Jean. 

“The Common Nightcrawler forages out of reach of most predators…” Hank said, affecting a dry, professional, documentarian tone.   

When Jean confirmed they were the type they needed, the kitchen briefly erupted in cheers. 

“...The rest of the colony is pleased.” Hank added, with a half-smile. Raven elbowed him in the ribs, but had to try not to laugh. 

In the kitchen, unaware they were being watched, everyone put the last touches on their respective tasks. Peter had finished finely dicing a large pile of the orange hot peppers, much to Scott’s chagrin. Bored now, he idly played with the mound of diced peppers, smoothing it out flat and piling it back up again. 

Ororo glanced up from her own workspace and gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Peter…” she breathed in a dire tone, shaking her head, “You should have worn gloves…” 

“What?” Peter asked, freezing with his hands still in the pile of peppers. Ororo simply cringed in response. Peter’s gaze darted quickly between his teammates, all of whom refused to respond. “What!?” 

“You tell him. I’m not telling him.” Jean muttered under her breath to Scott. “This is a ‘guy’ issue, it’s better if you deal with it…” 

Scott sighed heavily and nodded. He walked up to Peter and set a hand on Peter’s shoulder. Peter stared at him nervously. “Okay, so, your plan for the night is this: Stop touching hot peppers, wash your hands, and don’t touch your junk.” 

Peter stood awkwardly with his hands held out in front of him as if they were already aflame, and scowled. “Well, there goes my evening.” 

Jean walked up to the small space between Scott and Peter, and gently tapped Peter’s arm to get his attention. “Also, don’t touch anyone else’s junk.” she added quietly. Peter’s displeased expression only deepened, and Scott raised an eyebrow at her. “What? Girl Code.” 

“And there goes _my_  evening.” Jubilee mumbled quietly to herself. 

Over by the banister, Hank put his hand to his forehead and shook his head with a sigh. Raven tried as hard as she could to suppress her laughing fit, while glancing conspicuously at Erik. When Erik noticed her and stared back with a raised eyebrow, she managed to stop laughing long enough to say “Well, you did ask how he was doing.” 

Erik scoffed. “Oh, please. Yours is stuck to the ceiling, searching for beans.” 

“And he found them, so…” Raven trailed off with a casual shrug. 

“Please be civil.” Charles pleaded quietly. 

In the kitchen, Jean read through the recipe one last time. “Okay, Kurt, the last thing we need is one more can of beans. Any chance of finding one?” 

“Maybe! Let me just…” Kurt shoved some cans out of the way and shifted his grip on the ceiling, moving and bending so he was now partially inside the cupboard. 

“Also, like, don’t kill yourself, though!” Jubilee called out from the corner of the kitchen. 

A minute or so ticked by, as the sound of rummaging was paired with the sound of people tidying up after themselves. Finally, Kurt backed out of the cupboard, victoriously holding up a can of black beans. 

“Yes!” Jean exclaimed, complete with a quick fist-pump. “I knew you could do it!” She snagged the can telekinetically out of Kurt’s grip. 

Kurt beamed for a split second, and then pulled his other hand out of the cupboard. “I also found this.” he said, holding up a plain tin can. “It has no label and no expiry date.” 

“Ooh! Ooh! Give it here!” Jubilee waved her arms around, and caught the can when Kurt tossed it to her. She set it on the kitchen island between Ororo and Peter. “We totally have to make this a _thing_.” 

“Hell yeah! We can take bets to see who can guess what’s in it!” Scott said, as he picked up the can and shook it. 

“It’s probably just corn. It looked like most of the cans up there were corn.” Ororo stated with an unamused shrug. 

“Here’s what I’m thinking-” Jubilee started, snatching the can from Scott. “We all throw some cash in a pool, and whoever wants the cash has to eat whatever’s in the can!” 

A combination of cheers and groans were heard throughout the room. “C’mon, guys. It could be cat food!’ Jean protested. “It could be a hot can of botulism for all we know!” 

“So Jean’s out. How ‘bout you, Scott?” Peter pressed. 

“Hmm. Depends how high the reward gets.” Scott replied with a noncommittal shrug. 

“Scott, please don’t!” Kurt pleaded, but with a slightly impish expression. “If you get sick, you would leave your snails fatherless. Poor Jean would have to raise them alone.”   

Scott smiled and tipped his head towards Jean. “At least she’d have something to remember me by!” Jean covered her face with her hands and groaned. 

“Neat. You in, Kurt?” Peter called up, while digging through his pockets for loose change. 

“ _Nein_ , sorry. I can’t gamble for religious reasons.” 

“Lame. How ‘bout you, ‘Ro?” 

“Let’s just say I can’t eat probably-expired garbage for religious reasons, and leave it at that.” Ororo said, poking the tin can suspiciously. 

“Also lame. Well, I am definitely in!” Peter announced dramatically, slapping no more than two dollars in assorted small change down on the counter. 

“I’m in.” Jubilee threw a few dollar bills onto the pile that Peter started. 

“Me too.” Scott added a few more bills to the pile. In the background, Jean threw her head back in frustration.     

“Sweet! Alright, folks, we got me, Jubes, and Scott in the pool- which currently looks like it has about six bucks in it.” Peter said loudly, rubbing his hands together. “If Scott dies, Kurt gets the snails. Jean gets them every other weekend.” 

Kurt nodded solemnly while Jean muttered “Oh, goddammit…” under her breath.   

“Well, I’m not doing it for six bucks.” Jubilee stated, folding her arms. 

“Me neither.” Scott agreed. 

“C’mon, guys- just cuz you’re not in the pool doesn’t mean you can’t throw a few bucks in to watch someone else do it!” Peter beseeched his teammates, looking around the room. “Kurt, I know you got cash on you. I saw you put it in your pocket earlier.” 

Kurt shook his head. “Peter, I used to work with a man who would bite the head off a live chicken for less than five _Deutschemarks_. This doesn’t interest me.” 

“Fine, be a dick. Anyone else? Guys?” 

Next to the staircase, Raven tipped her head back and ran her hands down the sides of her face with a groan. “Ooh, my God…” she huffed, looking pointedly at Charles. “I still can’t believe you made us teach a Sex Ed class to this pack of _unfuckable idiots_ …” Charles glanced away and refused to respond. 

“I think I can see your point about them not getting out enough.” Hank stated plainly. 

“Oh, you think?” Raven snapped. 

“Why do they have snails?” Erik whispered to no one. 

“Duly noted.” Charles finally said. “Regardless, we really shouldn’t let this continue. We wouldn’t want them to become ill.” 

Raven nodded in quiet agreement until she realized that everyone else was looking at her. “What? Why me?” 

Charles motioned towards the kitchen. “They _listen_  to you.” 

Raven put her hands on her hip stubbornly. “That’s only because I yell at them. Anyone can go yell at them.” When everyone continued to stare at her silently, she dropped her arms to her sides and sighed. “Fine.” she said, before making her way down the stairs. 

In the kitchen, Peter was still trying to get his teammates to sweeten the pot. “C’mon, guys- last call! Any takers?” He was met with resounding silence. 

Apparently unnoticed, Raven walked to the doorway and leaned against the frame, crossing her arms. 

“I was wondering when you’d come down. It won’t be ready for at least another hour, but there was no need to be shy. We made enough for everyone.” Kurt said politely from the ceiling. 

Raven scoffed and shook her head. “Yep. Too shy to ask about dinner. That’s me in a nutshell.” A second later she frowned and looked back up. “Wait…you could see us?” Kurt nodded once. “The whole time?” He nodded again. 

“I have a good vantage point and I can see in the dark.” 

“Oh, riiight…” she said quietly, with one hand to her chin. She glanced back up at him, now suddenly stern. “Anyways, you better get down before I get a broom.” 

Kurt tilted his head. “Actually, _could_ you get a broom? There is a lot of dust up here. And dead moths.” 

“Kurt, don’t knock a bunch of dirt and insect corpses off the cupboard when we’re cooking.” Jean stated without looking up, as she stirred the chili together on the stove. 

“Alright. I will do it tomorrow.” 

Across the kitchen, Peter picked up the mystery can and held it up for all to see. “If you guys are gonna be a bunch of cheapskates, then fine! Fuck it! I’ll do it!” 

Scott held his hands up and backed away. “Be my fucking guest.” Jubilee added with a toss of her hair. 

“Ha! Joke’s on you guys! I’d’ve done it for nothin’!” Peter exclaimed. “I can eat stuff too fast to taste it, and years of being too lazy to cook properly has rendered me _immune to food poisoning_!” He held his hands up dramatically before scraping the meager amount of cash towards the edge of the counter. 

“Yeah, don’t do that.” Raven called out loudly. “The Professor told me to tell you guys that no one’s allowed to eat _that_.” She gestured towards the plain can. 

“Sweet! Even better!” Peter replied. “I get paid, _and_  I don’t have to do anything! High five!” He held his hand up to Jubilee. 

Jubilee quickly backed up out of his reach. “ ** **Do not****  touch me with your _contagious fire hands_!” Peter dropped his arms to his sides, dejected. 

“Plus, you’re not getting the money of you’re not eating it.” Scott added, picking his bills out of the pile. Peter’s shoulders sank even further. 

“Are you staying for dinner?” Ororo asked Raven hopefully. “I grew much of it myself. We made plenty!” 

“We made a friggin’ ton! We’ll have chili for _daaaaayysss_ …” Jubilee added dramatically. 

“Plus we can freeze the leftovers!” Scott said excitedly to no one. 

Raven started to shrug and stammered to come up with an excuse to _not_  eat chili with her students, when Peter, who had largely ignored the recent chili discourse, started moving angrily towards the door. 

“If you guys are gonna be assholes, then I’m leaving!” he said, stopping and turning to motion towards the doorway. 

“Okay! Be back in an hour when the food’s done!” Jean called out in a sing-song tone from the stove. 

“Um, sure.” Peter replied automatically, caught off guard. 

“Rent movies!” Jubilee yelled from the back of the kitchen, shoving the remaining pile of cash in Peter’s direction. 

“Get snacks!” Ororo added. 

“Okay, well- I’m gonna need more money than that.” Peter mumbled, apparently no longer angry. He clenched his eyes shut and froze as his various teammates threw a combination of wadded-up dollar bills and loose change at him. “Ugh, you guys… Don’t ever go to a strip club.” he huffed, shaking his head. Faster than the eye could see, he picked up the scattered money and stuffed it in his pockets. 

“You should probably say hello to your father on the way out.” Kurt mentioned casually. 

Peter spun towards Kurt and narrowed his eyes in confusion, whispering “ _What the fuck_?” 

Near the staircase, anyone listening carefully could hear Erik mutter “…Damn.”   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is the title of The Power Station's 1985 hit song. I'm 100% positive the song is about food. 
> 
> I wanted to give Raven two pistols, because in the comics, a Raven with a pistol in each hand is a Raven living her best life. 
> 
> Also, Peter's 'incident' is based on the real-life story of the time I chopped a butt-load of habanero peppers without gloves. To say that I paid for this mistake all night would be an understatement.


	23. A Rebel and a Runner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day after yesterday, and everyone's got some shit to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interesting fact: I thrive on angst because I'm a bad person.

Jubilee sprawled lazily in a chair in the breakfast nook, taking a bite of her scrambled eggs on toast while she flipped through a fashion magazine. The fact that it was already mid-morning meant she mostly had the space to herself, being as most of her teammates had already gotten ready for the day and set off on various tasks. However, when a stiff breeze and the sound of rapid clattering and slamming cupboards in the kitchen distracted her from her magazine, she just rolled her eyes and shook her head. 

A few minutes later, the mechanical swish of the toaster ejecting was the only warning she got in order to put one hand over her coffee mug to keep dust out of it, and one hand on up of her magazine to keep it from blowing away. The chair next to her skidded away from the table as Peter threw himself into it, letting a plate of four Pop-Tarts clatter on the tabletop as he did so. 

“Heywhatsup?” he blurted as the dust settled around him.   

She panned her hand over her breakfast and magazine and smiled back. “As little as possible.” 

He briefly disappeared and reappeared with a glass of orange juice in-hand. “Cool. What about after this?” 

“Meh. Kinda just whatever. I got a pile of laundry to do, and I might hit the gym for a bit if I feel up to it.” She licked her finger and turned the page of her magazine. She held it up for Peter’s inspection. “Should I do my hair like this?” The image was of a stringy, gravity-defying rockstar ‘do that was more hairspray than hair. 

He squinted at the image and his expression soured intensely. “ ** **Fuck**** no” 

Jubilee shrugged and turned the page. “The only interesting thing today is that Jean managed to strong-arm ‘Ro into hashing it out with Kurt, so that oughta be some hot gossip for later…” 

Peter scoffed. “As long as they don’t make things _more_  fucking awkward…” 

“Ugh, tell me about it…” Jubilee groaned without looking up from her magazine. “Although, I got my umbrella ready in case things go _really_  well.” she added with a smirk. 

Peter tilted his head in confusion. Jubilee cringed to herself. “Shit. Forget I said that…” 

“Nope. Too late, cat’s out of the bag. Can’t leave me hangin’ now.” Peter propped his head up on the table and awaited an explanation. 

Jubilee sighed and rolled her eyes, closing her magazine. “Okay, fine. But you are _sworn to secrecy_  on this. You definitely didn’t hear it from me.” Peter nodded once and leaned in closer. “So, by any chance have you noticed an increase in brief rain showers in the past couple weeks?” Peter shrugged and nodded slightly. “Like, since we found that porno stash and I handed out those books to the girls?” Peter shrugged obliviously. “Well…’Ro let it slip that she might have been, um, _causing them_.” Peter stared back blankly. Jubilee turned rolled her hands over and nodded slowly, trying to get Peter to understand without her having to go into more detail. He gawked at her dimly. “So, like, they happen when she…” Jubilee paused with her hands out, waiting for the cogs to turn in Peter’s head. 

Seconds ticked by. Finally, as if someone flipped the ‘on’ switch in his brain, he gasped and leaned back from Jubilee. “Holy shit, no way!” Jubilee threw her hands up in exasperation. “So, is that why we get, like, _all_  the rain?” 

Jubilee glared back, dumbfounded. “Uh, no. Sometimes it just rains.” 

“Okay, okay. But, like, if there’s a drought, should we, I dunno, _send help_?”   

“Nah, she’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. But if there’s a hailstorm, we should send chocolate, cuz I think that just means she has cramps.” Jubilee picked up her magazine and opened it with a flourish. Peter nodded thoughtfully and arranged his Pop-Tarts into a stack. 

Jubilee peeked over the corner of her magazine. “Not like it matters. Jean was trying to explain to ‘Ro that there’s a really high chance that Kurt’s, like, ‘saving himself for marriage’ so she’s probably shit out of luck anyways.” Peter scoffed in response and Jubilee smirked at him before putting her head back between the pages of her magazine, adding “Meanwhile, I’m just saving myself for the guy who gives me half a Pop-Tart.” 

She lowered the side of her magazine to see Peter glance up guiltily from his now-empty plate, surrounded by wayward sprinkles and crumbs. “Wha, you say somethin’?” he mumbled with his mouth full. 

She closed her eyes and sighed. “One day, my prince will come.” 

Peter watched Jubilee read and eat her toast in relative silence for a few minutes, until he got her attention by nudging her chair with his foot. “Hey, um, so later…d’ya wanna, like…” He trailed off, and she propped her head up on the table, looking at him expectantly to continue. “I mean, laundry takes a while, so if you get bored…” 

She raised an eyebrow. “Well, that depends. Are your hands still on fire?” she asked, referring to yesterday’s ‘chili pepper’ incident. 

“Oh, shit, yeah!” He leaned back in his chair, flailing his hands dramatically. “They hurt! Not nearly as bad as last night, though, holy fuck. I couldn’t even sleep.” 

She stared at him pointedly for a second. “Then no.” 

“Aw, come on, don’t let that stop you! We can just work around that!” He leaned back in his chair and laced his hands together behind his head. “You’re creative, you’ll think of something!” 

She tossed a pigtail behind her shoulder and shook her head. “Tempting, but still no.” Peter slumped into his chair. She ate her last bite of toast and took a sip of her coffee, and turned towards Peter with her hands folded in her lap. “So, how’d your chat with your dad go?” 

He tipped his head back with a groan and threw his hands up in exasperation. “Okay, if you’re not in the mood, you’re not in the mood. I _get it_. You don’t have to go and _terminate_ my boner with _extreme prejudice_ …” 

Jubilee threw her head back and laughed. “Omigawd, don’t be so dramatic!” She picked up her coffee mug and slung her opposite arm over the back of her chair. “I’m asking because I actually do want to know.” 

Peter sprawled back in his chair and dragged his hands wearily down his face. “Ugh. Fine. I’m sorry.” Jubilee waved him off. “I guess it was okay. Just really fucking awkward. I just know he doesn’t wanna talk to me. It was just like the time I ran into my ex-stepdad in a hardware store while trying to steal a nail gun, except instead of being like ‘Oh, hey Gary, what’s up? Does your mom still have diabetes?’ I was like ‘So, what’s new in the world of magnets?’” 

Jubilee was barely able to suppress a laugh. “Fuck! It can’t have been _that bad_!” Peter shrugged and nodded. “…A nail gun? What the hell did you need a nail gun for?” 

“It’s a gun that shoots nails. Why wouldn’t I want one?” Peter answered quickly. “And yeah, it was that bad.” 

Peter leaned into the table and put his chin down on his folded arms. Unsure of what to do, Jubilee reached over and rubbed his shoulder. He relaxed slightly and sighed. “I think it’s just like we don’t know what to expect from each other. Like, all those years me and Mom and Wanda got along just fuckin’ fine. What’s even the point of a dad? What do they even do, other than knock up your mom?” 

Jubilee paused with her hand on her chin, thinking. “Well, for example…” she started, and pulled her legs up to sit cross-legged. “One time, Dad picked me up after school with the promise of going for ice cream. But turns out that Mom wanted a new bathrobe for her birthday, and I’m Mom’s size, so instead of going for ice cream, we actually went to two separate malls so I could try on almost every bathrobe in existence so he could find the perfect one. When we finally found the _ideal_ bathrobe, it was pretty late, so we ended up having a banana splits for dinner. And we agreed to tell Mom that we had just gone to the library and then stopped for salads.” 

Peter’s expression straightened. “I’m sorry, but that’s the fucking cutest shit I ever heard.” 

Jubilee shrugged. “That’s dad shit.” 

“Hmm. Somehow, I can’t really picture that in my case.” He turned to face her, the side of his head on his forearms. “Plus, there’s that whole thing of how he, like, actually had a family. That he had on purpose, and that he wanted. And he lost them. And then I just pop up like the world’s shittiest consolation prize.” 

Jubilee scoffed and glanced around the room, before draining the last of her coffee and slamming her mug back down to the table. “Peter, you’re not a consolation prize. You’re not any kind of prize. You’re the guy who broke into the goddamn Pentagon. You’re the guy who punched Apocalypse in the ****fucking face****. You’re an X-Man, hell, you’re probably one of the most powerful mutants at this school, and possibly in the world.” She paused to let that sink in, and Peter stared back skeptically. 

“Look, what happened to Erik’s family was the _absolute fucking worst._ Like, I can’t even _fucking imagine_. But you don’t _matter less_  because of it. If Erik can’t accept you as his son at face value, then that’s entirely on him. Because you’ve done nothing but ****step the fuck up**** , and he didn’t even sign your cast when you got your leg shattered by some wanna-be god. All he’s ever done for you is nail your mom without a condom, and we all just finished taking classes on how that’s not even _considerate_.” She finished her rant by jabbing the tabletop with her index finger, and sternly crossed her arms and waited for his reaction. 

Peter had pushed himself up off the table, leaning onto one elbow while he rubbed his lower face with the other hand. He stared off blankly for what was, for him at least, and inordinate amount of time, and Jubilee began to worry that she had come down too heavy on him. 

Determined to lighten the mood a little, she gave her hair a toss and added “Plus you have nice hair and you know all the lyrics to _Tom Sawyer_.” 

She hardly registered the feeling of wind and motion, and the sounds of clattering dishes and wooden scraping ran together when she found herself re-positioned from her own chair to his lap. His head is bowed into her collarbone, and his arms are wrapped tightly around her, with his hands balled into fists- possibly to prevent him from accidentally touching her bare skin with his still-burning hands. “Please-” he mumbled into her cropped off-the-shoulder purple t-shirt, “Please, _please_  stay with me. We don’t have to- I mean, we can just- please.” 

He stops himself and doesn’t look up. She isn’t sure how to respond, so she wraps her arms around his neck and rests the side of her face on the top of his head. Finally, the intensity of more than fifteen seconds of sustained seriousness proves too much, and he leans back from her with a light chuckle and a half-smile. “Like, one option might be for you to just tie my hands to the headboard- you know, for safety reasons.” 

“Hmm. Safety reasons. Right.”   

******

 Ororo made her way through the corridors of the boy’s dorm with an armload of gardening supplies- three small potted sunflowers, a pair of floral gloves, and a new trowel. She had done the math in her head- what time Kurt normally gets back from church, how many minutes until he found his way back to his room, how many minutes to get changed out of his nice church clothes and back into his day-to-day clothes, and how many minutes until he normally starts helping Doctor McCoy with the Blackbird. She had identified the window of time where he was most likely to be available, but still she moved more tentatively the closer she got to his door. 

When she found herself in front of it, she shifted her armload around to free one hand to knock on his door three times. There is a brief silence, and she doesn’t know whether she’d be more disappointed or relieved if he wasn’t home. Finally, light shuffling is heard and the door swings open. 

Kurt freezes in the doorway, legitimately surprised to see her. He stares blankly as a second ticks by, until he quietly clears his throat to say “ _Hallo_ , Ororo. How are you?” 

“I’m good, and yourself?” 

“Good, thank you.” A very American exchange. The kind neither of them would normally partake in. He stands expectantly in the doorway, one hand gripping a spot high on the door frame, the other never having let go of the knob. 

“I was hoping you could lend a hand in the garden, if you’re free?” she asks politely, raising her armload of supplies for appraisal.   

He starts nodding slightly, but then licks his lips and looks down, shifting his stance uncomfortably. He sighs heavily before looking back up and leaning closer to the door frame. “Actually, I think it might be better if we talked about what happened last week.” His voice is barely audible and his expression is guilty. 

“Yes, I agree.” Ororo quickly replied, nodding a bit more than was necessary. “We’re going to. That was implied.” 

He tilted his head quizzically. “You have a load of gardening equipment.” 

“Well, yes. We can do both things. We can multitask.” 

He opens his mouth as if to respond, but no words come out. Instead, he seems to shrug mainly to himself and he walks forward and closes his door behind him. He reaches out to lift two of the potted sunflowers out of her grip. “Let me take these.” he mutters, and tucked the pots under one arm so he could reach out to her with the other. When he barely touches her elbow, they both disappear. 

******

 Jean sat in her desk chair and crossed her legs demurely, smoothing out the fabric of her floral sundress. Her desk was alight with a late-morning sunbeam, and she had no pressing responsibilities until well after lunchtime. She glanced out her window and into the back of the institute’s expansive property, but seeing nothing of interest -yet, she turned around and reached into the drawer of her bedside table to retrieve a book. 

She settled herself more comfortably in her chair, and opened the book, setting down the bookmark. She read _The Story of O_ intently for several pages, until series of particularly descriptive paragraphs causes her to raise her eyebrows and state “…Oh.” to the otherwise empty room. A quick glance outside reveals no one, and a quick glance to her door shows the lock is engaged. She shifts in her chair to become _even more comfortable_ , sliding towards the edge of the seat and propping her heel on the edge of her desk, ankles crossed. Her breath catches as she reads on, lightly tracing the neckline of her dress with a fingertip and gradually sliding the inside of her foot up her other leg until one heel rested on the edge of the chair. She turns the page back to re-read what she had just read, taking a breath as she drops her hand to raise the hem of her dress. 

The knock on the door isn’t unusually loud, but the shock of It causes her to throw the book to her bed and clench her fists in a brief rage. She swiftly sat up and spun her head towards the door, teeth gritted and feet planted squarely in front of her. Once she sensed who it was, she took a single, slow, relaxing breath. 

“Goddamn it, maybe the girls are right about him…” she huffed to herself, before disengaging the lock with a thought and pleasantly calling out “It’s open!”   

Scott let himself in and shut the door behind him. “Hey, what’s up?” 

Jean, who was now half-sitting/half-leaning on her desk, smiled in response, but quickly found her attention grabbed by something outside her window. 

“Ooh, what are you watching?” Scott implored curiously. “Did that family of raccoons come back, or…” 

She waved him over, and he crossed her room quickly, settling behind her and slipping both arms around her waist as he did so. She pointed to a couple of small figures outside, moving towards the treeline. “See? I told Ororo that if she didn’t talk things out with Kurt, she’d be sorry, and it looks like that’s what’s happening.” 

Scott leaned forward and appeared to squint behind his glasses, before nodding in approval. Jean leaned back against his chest and sighed. “I am truly the glue that holds this family together.” 

Scott suppressed a quiet chuckle by kissing her bare shoulder. “Yes you are.” he spoke into the crook of her neck, before raising his head and gesturing towards the window. “So, how’d you manage this modern-day miracle?” 

“Ha! Well, I just told ‘Ro that if she didn’t talk to him today, then she’d have the song _Africa_  by Toto stuck in her head in a loop until she did.” 

“That’s not really a punishment. That song’s a jam.” 

“Pfft! She hates it!” Jean leaned her head back onto his shoulder, so she could see his face as she explained. “You see, it explicitly states in the lyrics that Mount Kilimanjaro is in the Serengeti. It is _not_. She has dragged out a map of Tanzania _several times_  to point this out.” 

Scott pressed his lips together and nodded thoughtfully. “Yeah, I can picture that.” 

Jean sighed again and relaxed against him, lacing her fingers with his, still wrapped around her waist. “Hmm. I’m just hoping I did the right thing. Like, I’m used to helping friends deal with their High School-level bullshit, but normally the people have actually, y’know, _been to High School._ ” She panned her hand towards the window. “These two have just lived such _bizarre_  lives- so unlike anyone I know. I just don’t know if I’m doing anyone any good by getting involved. There’s a lot of _weird shit_  going on there…” 

Scott gave her a small, supportive squeeze. “Ugh, tell me about it. But, at least you’re trying.” Jean turned in his grip to sit/lean against her desk, facing him. “Like, I _tried_ to give Kurt some advice, but then I got distracted by arguing with Peter, and then I just thought ‘Whatever. He’ll figure it out.’ But that was a week ago, so obviously that _didn’t happen_.” 

Jean smirked and trailed her hands over his shoulders and down his arms. “Well, I wouldn’t worry about him too much. I feel like ‘Ro’s heart is in the right place.” 

Scott scoffed. “Well, just because there are good intentions doesn’t mean you can’t end up with a _spectacular clusterfuck_.” 

Jean raised an eyebrow. “We’d know something about that, wouldn’t we?” 

Scott cringed. “Huh, yeah I suppose we would.” 

A sudden idea, possibly inspired by her previous choice of reading material, strikes her, and a devilish smirk lights up her face. She grabs the back of his neck and kisses him several times quickly and firmly, before moving her hands down and up the back of his shirt. He grips her sides in surprise, and she whispers into his ear “Hey! How about a quickie?” 

“Ha! Um, well…okay…” he stammers, and looks down bashfully for a second, before looking back up in time to see her seat herself more securely on the edge of the desk, settling her legs on either side of him. He runs a hand up each thigh, raising the hem of her dress as he did so. “I mean, why does it need to be quick? Why not take some time and do things right?” 

Jean huffed a small laugh and slumped slightly, looking up in consideration. “Well, it’s almost lunchtime, and I’m hungry, so I also want to get something to eat soon.” 

“Why not grab some lunch and then come back?” 

Jean swiftly reached out and grabbed his belt buckle and pulled him towards her, forcing him to brace his hands on either side of her on the desk. She gazed up at him and essentially purred “Why not both? Now, and then again after lunch?” 

Scott’s expression shifted into intense seriousness and he stood up straight with his arms at his sides. “Shit, Jean- I’m not a machine.” 

She threw her head back and laughed until tears rolled down her face, stopping only to gasp for breath and pat Scott’s arm. He now stood scowling with his arms crossed. Finally, after wiping her eye once more, she took a deep breath and hopped off the desk. She smoothed out her dress and hooked her hand around Scott’s still-crossed forearm and started pulling him towards the door. “C’mon, hon. Let’s go refuel that machine.” 

******

 Ororo crouched at the edge of her garden, purveying her assorted plants. Without being asked, Kurt had gone into the gardening shed, and started pulling out their usual equipment and supplies. When he makes his way back towards the garden, she was reaching over the cucumbers, fussing with the vines and making adjustments to the fragile framework of wooden dowels they had been tied too. 

She made a series of frustrated, disgusted noises, and he set down the equipment and responds “Hmm?” 

“What? Oh.” She rocks back into a kneeling position and gestures towards the cucumbers. “I was hoping we’d just have to plant the sunflowers today, but it looks like the cucumbers need work. The wooden poles I fixed them too keep collapsing, and the plants are sagging as the cucumbers mature.” 

Kurt moved to crouch next to her, and poked at the wooden dowels, before standing back up to look at the entire row. “I could probably weld something in the workshop to replace the wooden parts.” He scratched the back of his neck and looked around awkwardly. “A sort of vegetable…framework…support…structure?” 

“Oh, you mean a trellis?” 

“ _Ja_ , I suppose. It would be more structurally sound than the wooden sticks.” 

“That sounds perfect!” Ororo smiled, but quickly furrowed her brow and asked “You would do that?” 

Kurt shrugged and looked around. He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “It would be no problem. We have plenty of scrap metal at the workshop, so the supplies would cost nothing. Doctor McCoy would likely appreciate that I’m practicing my welding.” 

“No, I mean- You’d do that even after…” 

Kurt sighed heavily and looked at his feet. His tail had secured itself around his ankle. He looked up at her somewhat warily, and jerked his thumb towards the gardening shed. “Can we please just…” 

She bit her lip and nodded, and they both walked towards the shaded side of the gardening shed. Kurt set his back against the wooden siding and sank to the ground, hugging his knees to his chest. Ororo sat a respectable distance away with her legs curled beneath her and to the side. She tugged at the laces of her gardening shoes while inhaling slowly. Biting the bullet, she turned to him and blurted “Look, Kurt, I’m sorry.” 

He stared back with wide eyes and his mouth a straight line. “Yes, me too. I’m sorry too. Possibly more sorry.” 

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes at him. “Well, it’s not a competition.” 

“And I suppose if it was, we’d both be losers.” 

She licked her lips and nodded slowly. She glanced back to him and asked “Can I go first?” He gestured with one hand to indicate that ‘the floor is yours.’    

She looked down at her hands folded in her lap, and picked at the cuticle of her thumbnail while she got her thoughts together. She looks up to find him watching her expectantly, his face neutral but his arms around his knees and his tail coiled around his ankle. She takes a deep breath. “I’m sorry about how things happened. I just felt that there was there was some sort of connection- a mutual attraction- and so I just assumed you wanted the same things I did, and I was wrong. I should have asked. We could have talked about it. Jean explained to me later that people in your religion often prefer to save sex for marriage, and I didn’t consider that, and I should have.” 

While she was speaking, he had mostly looked at the ground in her direction, just barely nodding. At her last comment, however, he scoffed sharply and stared straight ahead, blankly gazing into the trees and rubbing the back of his neck. Ororo leaned her shoulder into the siding of the gardening shed and rested her arms with her hands on her elbows, waiting for his reply. “I don’t- I mean…” he started, before cutting himself off with a frown, frustrated at his own inability to communicate. He dropped his gaze to the ground and pulled a few blades of grass out of the earth and took a deep breath. “Look, I _know_  no one’s going to want to marry me-” 

“Kurt…” 

“May I please-” 

“Of course, sorry.” 

“-So I don’t feel completely bound by that particular rule. But I do believe that sex is…it’s a sacred act. It’s as close as two people can possibly be, it’s the most that it’s possible to share with another person. It requires- I feel, anyway- a level of connection? Understanding? Trust? Something that doesn’t show up overnight. Does that make sense, or I am I raving?” 

“No, that…that makes perfect sense. It explains a lot.” Ororo smiled slightly and edged a little closer to him. “I guess that, living in Egypt, life was so unstable…It was hard to take much time for these things. It often seemed like we had to just get companionship and affection where we could, when we could, because we never knew when someone would just disappear out of our lives forever. I carried that here, and it’s hard to adjust. I have a hard time believing there’s no rush.” 

His posture relaxes somewhat, although his eyes are still downcast when he looks at her. She moves closer again, and softly places a hand on his forearm. “Do you think that we could start over? Take things a little slower?” 

“Um…” His posture stiffens again, and he rakes both hands back through his hair and stared at his knees. “This is where it gets sort of complicated…” 

As if it weren’t already complicated. 

“It’s just…” He scratches his head and glances upwards, as if a better explanation were written in the clouds. “I don’t think you really know what you’d be getting in to? There are so many things- I’ve thought about it, often- but I just don’t know if I could hold up my end of the bargain, so to speak. I don’t think I’m _designed_  for this. I don’t know if I could even kiss you, or touch you…we couldn’t even go out together without being stared at constantly. Ororo, you could easily have any man that you want. You have to see that this would likely just be more trouble than it’s worth.”    

He’s back to staring off into the treeline, fingers laced together on his kneecaps. She crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow, staring at him pointedly. “Obviously, I can’t ‘easily have any man that I want’, because the _one_  man I _do_  want is making things very difficult for me.” 

He scoffs again, but it sounds less bitter and he tries to suppress a smile. 

She scoots a little closer, and reaches out to pull the hand closest to her off his knee and into her lap, holding it with both of hers. He looks down at it warily, and she tilts her head and asks “Can we please be clear on one thing?” He glances up and nods. “You’ve told me that I shouldn’t want you, or pursue you. You’ve explained that that effort is best expended elsewhere. But not once have you said what _you_  want, or don’t want, or how you feel about me.” He nods again, guiltily. “Kurt, you can tell me you don’t want me, or that you don’t find me attractive, or that you have no interest in being together. Tell me any of those things and I’ll leave you alone, no questions asked. But you don’t get to tell me not to want what I want, because that’s not up to you.” 

Kurt nods again, continuing to stare at his hand in her lap. He takes a slow breath. “When you say you’ll ‘leave me alone’… does that mean we won’t be friends any more?” he asks, barely above a whisper. 

Ororo gasped, and clutched his hand tighter. “No! No, of course not! I just mean I won’t pester you with my unwanted advances.” 

He visibly relaxes and, unexpectedly, adds his other hand to her lap to hold both of hers between his. “Ororo, you haven’t _pestered_  me. I’m ashamed of how I treated you. If this past week has taught me anything, it’s that I want you in my life. I’ve missed you. I just- I got overwhelmed and I panicked. I am in over my head, but that’s no excuse. I was very rude, and I’m sorry. I never intended for you to feel unwanted.” 

He waits patiently for her to respond, looking guilty and vulnerable. His tail thumps the ground regularly, like the ticking of a clock. She huffs a laugh and smiles. “Well, we’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” He half-smiles and looks down, relieved. She turns one of his hands over in hers, and runs her thumb along the lines in his palm. “Can I ask you a question?” 

He shrugs. “Of course.” 

“Before the other night, had anyone ever kissed you? Held you? Other than friends or family, I mean. In a romantic sense.” 

He furrowed his brow and looked down, thinking. “ _Nein_ , I don’t think- No.” 

“Well, then I’m sorry. That probably was supposed to be special.” 

“Ororo, _you_  are special.” He makes fleeting eye contact, before looking back down and shifting uncomfortably. “And I suppose that’s not even strictly true. As children, some of the circus girls used to dare each other to kiss me- as a joke, or a prank. To see which of them were brave enough.” His expression soured. “It was _erniedrigend_ \- um, humiliating. And somehow I was always the one who got punished for it. And later, after the incident at the dance, I just avoided anything like that. I didn’t want anyone to get into trouble.” 

They both sat silently for a time, until she (somewhat awkwardly, given the differing amount of digits) laced her fingers with his. “Kurt, I am no stranger to trouble. Trouble doesn’t concern me in the slightest.” He perks up slightly. “ _You_ , however, are the polar opposite of trouble. You couldn’t be troublesome if you tried.” 

He smiles and looks away bashfully, and finally loosens his posture- turning towards Ororo and kneeling in the soft grass. 

She continues to hold his hands in her lap and presses on. “I’m serious. There’s just something about you. The way you’ve been treated- you shouldn’t even know how to be kind, but you are. To everyone. And without expecting anything in return. I know this all seems daunting and new, but I’m not worried about you. It all just comes with time and practice.” She pauses and bites her lip before adding “That is, if you were interested…” 

She gasped quietly when he pulled her hand towards him. He flattened her palm against his chest, pressing it there with both hands. Through the fabric of his shirt, she can feel his heart pounding at least as hard as hers. He manages a shy glance and a slight smile, and the gleaming amber of his eyes is filtered through thick black eyelashes. “Well, perhaps we could try it…” he says, hardly above a whisper. She beams in response, and reaches out to run her knuckle across his cheekbone.   

A few seconds ticked by, in the real world at least, and Kurt let go of her hand and cleared his throat. He straightened up and tugged at the grass some more, before saying “If we go ahead with this, though, it’s only fair that I warn you…” He pulled out more grass and cleared his throat again, clearly stalling. “I’d like to take things slowly…maybe slower than you’d tolerate.” 

She gave a lighthearted scoff and rubbed his shoulder. She turned her head and panned her arm across the vast array of plants in her garden. “Kurt, do you see anything that would suggest that I’m not a patient woman?” 

He smiled appreciably and nodded, but then cringed slightly. “You swear at the radishes.” 

“Pardon?” 

“The radishes. I’ve heard you curse at them under your breath.” 

“Oh! Yes, that.” she acknowledged, slightly embarrassed. “I didn’t swear at them because they were growing too slowly. I swore at them because they were too small.” 

His eyes widened and he frowned, too scandalized to make a peep. 

She burst into laughter and gave his shoulder a playful shove. Finally, he relaxed and they both stood and brushed themselves off. 

“We really should get these sunflowers in the ground before they dry out. There are these, and three more in my room.” she explained, gesturing towards the three pots. 

“Not a problem…” Kurt replied with a nod, as he grabbed a shovel. He turned to her and shoved a hand into his pocket. “So, how did you want to go about this? I have no problem admitting I’m in over my head already.” 

Ororo briefly considered explaining where she planned to put the sunflowers until she realized he wasn’t talking about plants. “Well, we could always defer to our resident experts. They’ve already made plans that include us- imagine how excited they will be if we go along with it!” 

Kurt chuckled softly. “Maybe Scott will get his night at the Drive-In after all…” 

“Ha! Although it would probably be fun. We both like movies.” Kurt nodded in agreement. Ororo shrugged and put on her gardening gloves. “Plus maybe it’s fitting that we go on a typical American date. We can chat with Scott and Jean and see how things are suppose to work here.” 

Kurt grinned and nodded. “That sounds good. In the meantime, I’ll talk with Peter so he can teach me all the best pick-up lines.” He crossed his arms with a smirk. 

“You wouldn’t dare!”      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is a line from the 1982 Rush song "New World Man." I was really happy to find something that both describes Peter to a T and was by Rush. Rush is great. Everyone go listen to Rush.
> 
> Also, I just want to say that I wrote this chapter well before I actually saw Dark Phoenix and realized how badly Dadneto fans got screwed. I was trying to set up a tenuous relationship between two "not exactly in-touch with their feelings" guys who each have more emotional baggage than a cargo ship, and I now see that I may have just made Dadneto fans cry. Fear not. As GLOB IS MY WITNESS, better and more heartwarming Dadneto content is on it's way.


	24. Young Americans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How many X-Men does it take to plan a date? Probably too many, when you think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pretty light chapter.

“Jean? JEAN! I did what you asked, now make it stop!” 

Ororo stormed into the library and made a beeline to the large wooden table where she knew Jean would be working. It was after lunch and Jean was in in the library, helping the Professor prepare for an upcoming political meeting by doing some literature searches and fact checking. She was so engrossed by her task that she didn’t notice Ororo approach until Ororo reached out and insistently tapped the top of the book Jean was currently buried in. 

Jean peered innocently over the top of the book. “What?” 

“You need to make it stop. I talked to him over an hour ago! Besides, you said I had all day, and it’s only the early afternoon! This is unfair.” Ororo stated angrily, as she stood opposite Jean with her arms crossed. “It’s just the same horrible song, over and over and over again…It has to be considered torture. No one could live like this.” 

Jean placed her pen in the book she was reading and closed it, before giving a slight, dismissive shrug and shaking her head. “I don’t know what to tell you. I’m not doing it. I said you had all day, and I planned on standing by that. You must be doing it to yourself.” 

Ororo’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “But that’s impossible!” 

Jean smirked and shrugged again. “It’s a catchy song.” 

Ororo threw herself into the chair across from Jean and raked her hands through her hair with an aggravated “Aaargh!” 

Jean laughed to herself, and leaned closer to Ororo with her head propped up, elbow on the table. “So…how’d it go?” When Ororo peeked up tentatively, she added “C’mon, dish! It’ll distract you from the song stuck in your head.” 

Ororo sat up straighter and grinned excitedly, tapping her fingers on the table as she spoke. “It went very well! We both said everything we needed to say, and talked about how we felt about things.” She paused while Jean nodded in approval. “We decided to start over, and take things slowly. We decided that we should go on a date.” 

Jean held her hands together and leaned back with a bright smile. “Ooh! A date! That’s exciting!” 

“Did I hear _someone_  has a date!?” 

Ororo and Jean turned to see Jubilee step out from behind a row of tall bookshelves, clutching several magazines to her chest. She quickly moved to the chair at the end of the table Ororo and Jean were at, and hopped into it gleefully, throwing her magazines down with Jean’s books and notes, and waiting patiently for Ororo to elaborate. 

Ororo furrowed her brow in annoyance. “Were you eavesdropping?” 

Jubilee opened her mouth to speak, but Jean spoke first. “That’s just her new mutant power. She automatically teleports around the corner from hot gossip.” 

“Ha.” Jubilee said to flatly to Jean, before turning back to the center of the table. “I was actually just a couple rows up, anyways. I was babysitting the porno stash.” Jean and Ororo exchanged confused, slightly disgusted looks. “You know- just checking up on it, seeing if it needs anything…” 

“Alright, then…” Ororo said with a slight cringe. “But yes, you heard correctly. Kurt and I are going on a date.” 

Jubilee began to squeal in excitement, but was quickly cut off when Jean held her hand up. “Now, just to be clear- this is an _actual date_ , correct? This isn’t like you’re both eating canned soup in the kitchen simultaneously, and you _think_  it’s a date, right? Because we all know how that went down last time.” 

Ororo smiled and placed her hand on her chest. “I swear it’s an actual date.” Jean visibly relaxed. “In fact, we were thinking on asking you and Scott for some recommendations, or maybe to go on a double-date.” 

“Oh, definitely!” Jean replied enthusiastically. “We should double-date, I’ve always wanted to go on a double-date! There are tons of options…” She leaned back in her chair, and started counting on her hands. “We could go bowling, we could go roller-skating…” 

“No way could Kurt wear roller skates. Pretty sure he couldn’t get his fingers in the bowling ball holes, either…” Jubilee pointed out. Ororo nodded in agreement. 

“I’m positive he could just palm a bowling ball and throw it, but whatever. There’s also miniature golf!” Jean offered. Jubilee snickered and Ororo looked on in confusion. Jean sighed. “So in miniature golf, or ‘mini-putt,’ you use a club to bat a small plastic ball around an obstacle course and into a hole. The obstacles are, like, tiny windmills and fiberglass dolls, and I think there’s one that’s a UFO.” 

Ororo stared back warily. “That sounds absolutely absurd.” 

“Oh, it is. That’s why it’s fun. There’s also a canteen that sells, like, hot dogs and fries and ice cream and stuff.” Jean explained excitedly. 

Ororo shrugged. “We actually were thinking that Scott’s Drive-In plan might not be such a bad idea. There are good movies playing soon.” 

Jean scoffed. “Or we could just go to an _actual_ theater…”   

Jubilee blew a large bubble with her gum and popped it with a grin. “It’s a lot easier to get to third base at the Drive-In, though!” Jean rolled her eyes. Jubilee leaned out of her chair and clutched Ororo’s shoulders and shook them gently, while looking at Jean. “C’mon, Jean! Throw this poor, sexually-deprived girl a bone!” 

Jean scoffed and shook her head. “If Kurt won’t put out here, he definitely won’t put out at the Drive-In.” 

“Oh! That reminds me!” Ororo interjected, snapping her fingers. “Jubilee, you owe Jean five dollars.” 

“WHAT?! How?! Why?!” Jubilee cried out in dismay, while Jean thrust both arms skyward in celebration. 

Ororo folded her hands on the table. “It came out during our chat that he has essentially no romantic experience whatsoever. He’d never even been kissed until I kissed him.” she explained plainly. Jean opened her mouth and pointed across the table, but Ororo quickly raised a hand to silence her. “And before you ask, I checked about the ‘no-sex-before-marriage’ thing. He seemed to suggest he may not feel the need to adhere to that particular rule.” 

Jean scoffed and crossed her arms with a smirk. “Looks like you’re in for about six months of holding hands, and then maybe some over-the-clothes stuff.” Ororo shrugged. Jean turned to Jubilee. “Pay up.” 

Jubilee grumbled to herself as she pulled an assortment of wadded-up dollar bills and loose small change out of several pockets, finally shoving the messy pile towards Jean. “There. Don’t spend it all in one place.” 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Jean said with a wink. 

Jubilee stuck her tongue out at Jean quickly, and redirected her attention to Ororo. “So, ‘Ro, if you go on a date, can I do your makeup?” 

“I prefer to do my own makeup…” Ororo replied. 

“Can I do your hair?” Jubilee replied immediately, clutching her hands together and leaning towards Ororo. 

Ororo quickly passed a hand over the very edge of her Mohawk. “Do _what_  with it?” she asked suspiciously. 

Jubilee leaned back in her chair and looked Ororo up and down. “…Cuz I’m thinking, like… _makeover_ …” 

Ororo recoiled. “…No.” 

“Aw, c’mon!” Jubilee whined childishly. “I have some great ideas that would look pretty rad, like- if you look here…” Jubilee reached over and picked up one of the magazines she had set down on the table. The magazine had been face-down, and when Jubilee picked it up, it became apparent that it was not one of her regular fashion magazines. Rather, it was one of the vintage nudie mags from the porn stash. 

“Whoa! What the fuck, Jubes?” Jean protested as Jubilee quickly flipped through the pages of the seventies-era smut rag. 

“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Jean! It’s nothing you haven’t seen before!” Jubilee shot back without looking up from the magazine. “Plus, titties aside, there are some bold fashion choices in these photo shoots- like, you gotta admit this chick’s nail polish is bitchin’!” 

Jubilee held the magazine up for her friends to see. Jean squinted at the image but remained silent. Ororo frowned and shook her head. “If I had my nails done like that, that wouldn’t be where I would stick my hands…” 

“Pfft…If you let me give you a makeover, you can stick your hands pretty much wherever you want.” Jubilee countered. “You’ll be so totally irresistible, you’ll be getting laid before the previews are even over.” She cracked her gum and twirled her pigtail, confidently awaiting Ororo’s reaction. 

Ororo crossed her arms and stared Jubilee down for several seconds. “The most I’m willing to do is allow you to critique outfits I pick out for myself.” 

“Deal!” 

Ororo and Jubilee reached across the table and shook hands once. 

“Awesome…” Jubilee muttered to herself, as she looked through her magazine. “Oh…since you guys are here- do you think I should do my hair like this?” 

She held up the magazine again, this time showing a glitzy disco-fabulous centerfold of a curvaceous brunette on roller-skates, with a disco ball in the background. Jean and Ororo leaned in to evaluate. 

Ororo gave a disinterested shrug. “It wouldn’t be a huge change. You already have pigtails.” 

Jean gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, God! She’s talking about the pubes!” 

“Ugh!” Ororo exclaimed, and slapped the magazine out of Jubilee’s hands and onto the table, and then pointed at her accusingly. “Absolutely not! That is ** **NO PLACE****  for glitter!” 

“Aw, you’re no fun!” Jubilee managed to squeak as she wiped laughter-induced tears from her eyes. 

******

Scott stood in front of the stove, lost in the sound and rhythm of him stirring his pot of canned tomato soup as it cooked. He was so mesmerized by his task, that when the loud ‘BAMF’ occurred about six feet behind him, he jumped and swore involuntarily, throwing his arms defensively around his soup pot and splattering tomato soup off the spoon and around the stove top. 

“Oh, there you are!” Kurt called out pleasantly as Scott shot him a frustrated, frazzled look. “This is a little late for lunch, _nicht wahr_?” 

Scott took a deep breath to reorient himself, and then started wiping up the splatters with a dish rag. “Well, I did have a sandwich around lunch time, but then I…Anyway, I got hungry again, so I’m just making some soup.” 

Kurt nodded along, and quickly stepped up beside Scott, observing Scott stir soup intently with both hands clasped behind his back. 

Scott peered at him intermittently, waiting for him to say something or do something that would explain his presence in the kitchen, or why he seemed to be looking for him. Kurt remained both silent and oblivious. Scott cleared his throat loudly. Still nothing. 

Finally, Scott gave Kurt a small shove shoulder-to-shoulder. “So…” he started tentatively, “How is your afternoon going?” 

“ _Sehr gut_.” Kurt replied, nodding pleasantly. “I spoke to Ororo.” 

“Oh, GREAT! I mean, I knew that cuz I saw you out the window, but, like, how’d that go? Are you guys on speaking terms again?” Scott rambled enthusiastically. Kurt looked slightly confused and opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted as Scott continued his tangent. “Cuz, y’know, as much as I like you, I just CAN’T be the guy you go to for math homework help. I just can’t. I graduated, and I forgot all that, and now it just stresses me out.” 

Kurt held his hands up to signal Scott to calm down. “It went well. And, yes, we are speaking to each other again.” Scott visibly calmed. “I actually was looking for you because we’ve decided to go on a date, and we’d like your recommendation.” 

Scott gasped and his face lit up with the biggest smile Kurt had ever seen him display. He opened his mouth to say something, but was immediately interrupted. 

“’Sup, losers!” 

“Gaah, FUCK!” Scott shouted in shock, and dropped the spoon he had been holding. It sank to the bottom of the pot. Peter, who had appeared to Scott’s immediate right without warning, peered into the pot and smirked. 

“Ha, lost your spoon!” Peter announced with an devilish look on his face. 

Scott pulled another spoon out of the drawer and started fishing his original spoon out of the soup. “Can’t you two ever just walk into a room like a regular person, instead of giving everyone a heart attack?” 

Peter scowled. “Nah.” Kurt looked away sheepishly. 

Scott huffed in frustration and continued to dredge for his lost spoon. Peter pulled a stool away from the kitchen island and settled himself on it, crossing his arms and observing the scene before him. 

“Why are you even here, anyways?” Scott pressed, his annoyance palpable. 

Peter instantly appeared to have a box of Oreos in his hands, and stuffed an entire cookie in his mouth. “I dunno. Bored.” he mumbled with his mouth full. Scott scoffed. Peter swallowed his cookie and dug another out of the box. “Kinda curious about what ended up being in that can from last night.” 

“Oh, right! The mystery can!” Scott recalled. “It was cream-of-mushroom soup.” 

“Poor Jubilation nearly vomited in the sink.” Kurt added solemnly, shaking his head. 

“Huh. Yeah, she has a really sensitive gag reflex.” Peter replied casually. Kurt’s mouth dropped open and he and Scott glanced at each other, but both declined to comment. 

After several seconds of uncomfortable silence, Scott tossed the rescued spoon in the sink and continued stirring with his new one. He cleared his throat and looked back to Kurt. “Anyway, there are, like, tons of options for a first date, but I still think a double-date with me and Jean at the Drive-In would be your best bet!” 

“I agree.” Kurt replied, and Scott’s grin was back. “Ororo and I ate lunch together and looked at the schedule in the newspaper, and it looks like there are going to be some good movies playing in the near future.” 

Scott, still beaming, opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted, _again_ , by Peter scoffing loudly in the background. “Pfft! As if anyone goes to the Drive-In to watch the movie…” he said, shaking his head and digging for more Oreos. 

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Peter quizzically. “What do you mean?” 

“Dude, we literally already had this conversation. People go to the Drive-In to touch each other’s junk in a semi-private- yet public- setting.” Peter explained matter-of-factly. 

Kurt gasped quietly and turned to Scott. “Scott, is this true?” 

“Uuh…”   

“That’s why _he_  wants to go. Why else would he be so excited about overpriced popcorn and shitty B-movies?” Peter continued. He peered into the bottom of the cookie box and tossed it aside when it proved to be empty.   

“Peter, shut your mouth!” Scott hissed. Peter only laughed in response. 

“If this is the case, perhaps we should go someplace else.” Kurt said nervously, wringing his hands. “It doesn’t sound appropriate for a first date…” 

“Kurt, look, it’s not like that…” Scott said in a calming tone, attempting to salvage the situation. “Nobody has to do anything they’re not comfortable with.” 

“Yeah, man. Like, you and ‘Ro don’t _have_  to bang. But everyone _around you_  will definitely be fucking.” Peter added, swinging his arms around him in a circle. A box of Frosted Flakes had appeared in his hands, and he shoved a fistful into his mouth. “You’ll probably hear them during the quiet parts of the movie.” 

Kurt’s mouth hung open and his eyes darted between Scott and Peter. Scott dropped his arms to his sides and glared at Peter resentfully. “I swear to God, Peter, if you fuck this up for me…” 

Peter laughed again. “Then, what? What’s the big deal? Who gives a fuck about the fucking Drive-In?” 

Scott tipped his head back and groaned in aggravation. Behind him, unnoticed by either of his friends, Kurt turned off the stove and removed Scott’s soup from the burner, as it had started to boil over. Scott sighed and set his hands on his hips. “Fine. Fuck it.” he said sharply, staring Peter down. “I really, really want to take Jean to the Drive-In, because anything sex-related is about a thousand times hotter if you do it in a car.” 

“See!? Was that so fucking hard?” Peter motioned towards Scott, Frosted Flakes box still in-hand. “I mean, you’re _wrong_  and that’s _dumb_ and you clearly have no appreciation for _privacy_  or _leg room_ , but can’t we agree that honesty is the best policy?” 

Scott scowled at Peter, shaking his head angrily. Kurt cleared his throat. “Scott, your soup is done. I’ll see you later.” he said softly, having transferred the soup to a bowl when no one was looking. He shoved his hands in his pockets and moved towards the door. 

“ _Fuck_. Wait a minute!” Scott called out. Peter shoved another fistful of cereal in his mouth. 

“Afternoon, boys!” 

Kurt had only taken about two steps when Jubilee rounded the corner, with Jean and Ororo in tow. Jubilee leaned against the door frame with her arms crossed, chewing her gum obnoxiously, observing the scene before her. 

“Have we interrupted something?” Ororo asked politely. 

Peter waved the cereal box at Scott. “We were helping Scott make soup.” 

Jubilee turned to Ororo. “ _Clearly_  a three-person job.” 

Peter shrugged. “It’s damn good soup.” 

Jean turned to face the girls, with her back towards the boys. “Ladies, may I present-” she said in a sarcastic, mock-dramatic tone, panning her arm across the kitchen. “Men!” The girls giggled together and Jubilee booed. 

Scott picked up his soup bowl and gave it a stir. “Actually, we were trying to plan a double-date.” he stated, smirking at Jean. 

“Oooh! Well, that’s at least a six-person job!” Jubilee replied gleefully, and moved into the kitchen to lean on the island next to Peter. 

Jean and Ororo followed suit, with Jean settling adjacent to the island, while Ororo stood next to Kurt. She smiled at him and brushed her hand against his and he smiled warmly back, his agitation over Peter and Scott’s argument having instantly dissipated. 

“We’ve come up with some ideas as well.” Jean offered, as she watched Scott eat soup. “There’s bowling, there’s mini-putt…” 

At the mention of mini-putt, Kurt dropped his arms to his sides and furrowed his brow in confusion. Ororo grasped his forearm and pulled him a few inches closer to whisper “Please say no to that one. It sounds completely ridiculous!” Kurt nodded in compliance. 

“Honestly, I think the Drive-In sounds fun. The first movie is a comedy, and the second movie is scary, so there’s something for everyone.” Ororo explained. 

“Yes! Exactly!” Scott exclaimed. 

“Ugh, the second movie is some dumb slasher flick. They aren’t actually scary.” Jean complained. 

“Maybe not to you.” Ororo countered. “But you should know that you are statistically more likely to be killed by an ax murderer than a ghost or alien.” Scott nodded in agreement while eating soup. 

“Wait! I got it!” Jean said suddenly, drumming her hands on the countertop. “We’ll go to all-you-can-eat lasagna night at that cute Italian place!” 

“Really, Jean?” Scott whined. 

“Fuck yes!” Jubilee cried, thrusting both arms in the air. 

“Why am I only hearing about this now?” Peter asked no one in particular. 

“It’s perfect!” Jean insisted. “It’s cozy, it’s intimate, it’s got infinite quantities of lasagna and garlic bread!” 

“I _do_  like garlic bread…” Ororo muttered quietly. 

“I mean, yeah it’s great, but, like, have you guys had lasagna before?” Jean asked, motioning towards Ororo and Kurt. 

Kurt pressed his hands together. “Jean. I am European.” 

“That’s the pasta dish where the pasta and sauce are layered with cheese, correct? I’ve had it. It’s alright.” Ororo replied with a casual shrug. 

“This lasagna isn’t just alright. This lasagna is basically a religious experience.” Jubilee interjected. She moved her hands as she spoke, evoking a world-class culinary triumph. “Rich, meaty, perfectly seasoned marinara sauce layered with house-made fresh pasta and a blend of four cheeses, including a middle layer consisting of ricotta cheese and spinach, topped with stringy mozzarella and a mix of Italian herbs, cooked until perfectly golden brown…” 

Jean nodded along to Jubilee’s descriptions. Ororo and Kurt hung on every word. Scott shook his head silently. Peter stared at Jubilee and may have been drooling. 

“ _Holy shit_.” Peter muttered under his breath. “I’m just gonna say it. If anyone ever took me there for a date, I’d put out in a heartbeat.” 

“Anyone who goes there for a date is in bed by nine-thirty with a stomach ache…” Scott pointed out, but was ignored. 

Jean smiled wider and extended her arms towards Jubilee and Peter. “Well, you guys should come too! We can triple-date! The more, the merrier!” 

“Jean…” Scott said quietly but firmly, but was again ignored. 

“Ha! Thanks but no thanks.” Jubilee replied with her hand up. “We don’t date, that’s lame.” 

“Well, you can still join us! We can have one table for four, and two tables for one…” Jean replied jokingly. 

“But the two tables for one need to be close together, because they will still want to talk to each other the whole time.” Kurt added with a smile. 

“Well, obviously. We gotta be able to keep score!” Jubilee gave her hair a casual toss. 

“Wait- is it a competition?” Ororo questioned. 

“It’s a competition.” Peter replied with a nod. 

“It’s not a competition.” Scott stated simultaneously. 

“It’s not _not_  a competition.” Jean summarized with a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, I can probably only eat one or two pieces at the most. It sounds very filling.” Ororo concluded. 

“Oh, no. You don’t decide how much lasagna to eat with your stomach. You decide that with your heart.” Jubilee explained emphatically, pressing her hands to her chest. 

“It’s just not a good first date idea, guys! For example-” Scott attempted to reign in the conversation, but was cut off by Peter. 

“Nope, it’s the best date idea I’ve ever heard. ” Peter insisted. Jean nodded along confidently. Peter waved his arm towards Kurt. “I mean, hell. You’d put out for limitless lasagna and garlic bread, right?” 

Kurt rocked back on his heels and looked at his friends. All were smiling except Scott, who seemed to become increasingly dismayed as the conversation went on. It just seemed fitting, considering how their conversation prior to the girl’s arrival had gone. Kurt crossed his arms and smiled. “I might have to. It sounds amazing.” 

“Fuck yes!” Peter did a fist-pump and grinned. “Even Kurt’s a slut for some lasagna. We all have to go. We all have to go right now!” 

Jean held both hands up. “Calm down. It’s only on Wednesdays.” Peter slumped in disappointment. Jean sighed and set her hand on her hip. “Plus, I think you’re, like, _cheapening_  the lasagna. I mean, if someone were to anticipate and meet your needs so thoroughly, it’s only natural that you’d feel a strong connection with them…” 

“Holy fuck, Scott.” Jubilee stated, shaking her head. “Buy. This chick. Some Lasagna.” she added, staring at Scott and clapping for emphasis. “If you don’t, I will, and I won’t be held responsible for what happens afterwards.” 

Scott stared down into his soup for a few seconds before sighing heavily and setting the bowl down. “Okay, I know that you’re all on board with this, but it has to be said- this is not a good first date idea. This is not even a good third or fifth or tenth date idea. At best, this is a good twenty-fifth date idea- where there is a certain level of emotional commitment and familiarity, but you want to start introducing some of your uglier personality flaws to your partner in a controlled setting. Like, ‘Hey, babe- have I mentioned I’m a disgusting slob with no self control? Cuz you should know that.’” 

Scott paused as his teammates exchanged uncomfortable glances. He picked his soup back up and ate a couple spoonfuls. “And another thing. Kurt, ‘Ro- have either of you ever been to an American-style all-you-can-eat buffet?” They glanced at each other and shook their heads. “Ah. Well, you should know that it’s less like going to a restaurant and more like going to the zoo. People don’t even talk to each other or look at each other, they just put their heads down and eat until they can’t anymore. It’s not cute, it’s not romantic. It’s just gross.” 

He ate some more soup, tilting the bowl to get at the last of it. He glanced up to gesture towards Kurt and Ororo with his spoon. “I mean, both of you have- on completely separate occasions- come to me to ask why Americans are so fucking fat compared to nearly everyone else in the world. We can go to all-you-can-eat lasagna night if you really wanna see why that is. If you wanna do _nearly anything else_ with your time, though, we’ll have to go someplace else. Movie, mini-golf, petting zoo- I don’t give a fuck.”    

The room was completely silent except for the sound of Scott eating soup. Everyone else either looked at each other or at their feet, save for Jean, who crossed her arms and stared at Scott before tipping her head back in frustration. “Ugh, fine. We’ll go to the damn Drive-In if it means that much to you. Would that make you happy?” 

Scott took several seconds to conspicuously scrape the last dregs of his soup out of the bowl and eat it, before setting the bowl and spoon down on the counter. “Yes.” 

“Fine. Saturday. God…” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is, of course, from David Bowie's 1975 song of the same name.
> 
> I just have to say that Scott's rant at the end of this chapter was, like, the funnest thing to write. I have no idea why.


	25. Every Girl Crazy 'Bout a Sharp Dressed Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jean and Scott and Ororo and Kurt get ready for their double-date at the Drive-In!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick and light chapter. Possibly offensive fashion choices. Spoiler alert for the original Friday the Thirteenth movie (1980).

Kurt on the very edge of a chair close to the mansion’s large main entrance. He was trying to appear calm by reading the phone book, but the agitated twitch of his tail gave him away. The sound of rapid footsteps on the staircase grabbed his attention, and he looked up to see Scott making his way towards him. 

“Hey, man! Any sign of the girls?” Scott called out, finally coming to a stop with his hands in his pockets. 

“ _Nein_ , nothing yet. But we are early.” Kurt replied after a quick glance at his watch. He paused to look Scott up and down. His friend was wearing a truly unforgivable color combination. “I’m sorry, Scott. I can’t let you go out like this.” He stood and grabbed Scott’s arm in preparation to teleport. 

“C’mon, Kurt, what’s the big deal? It can’t be that bad!” Scott protested. 

“It very much is. Trust me, I was in show business. Presentation is everything.” Kurt firmly reiterated. “Please let Jean know we will be a few minutes.” 

“Pfft! You tell her! You’re the one with a problem!” 

****** 

“How about this one?” Ororo stood next to her dresser drawers, motioning her hands down her body to demonstrate her outfit choice. It was a long orange patterned skirt in a soft material and a slit up the side, with a black cropped off-the-shoulder top and a frayed denim vest. 

“That’s it! That’s the one!” Jubilee cried out with excitement. “The long skirt says ‘I’m pure class’ but the crop top says ‘I’m still really fucking hot, though.’ The vest just adds an edge.” 

“Good. Because this was the last thing I was willing to try on.” Ororo replied with a determined nod. Jubilee scoffed and waved her away. 

“I actually think the black leather mini suited you better…” Jean said in a disinterested tone. “But I also think if you show too much leg, Kurt might faint.” She was sitting cross-legged on Ororo’s bed, mirror compact in one hand and mascara wand in the other, putting the finishing touches on her makeup. She was dressed in a bright, multi-colored abstract pattern spaghetti-strap dress that was cinched at the waist and had a small ruffle around the neckline. 

 “Oh, please. He’s not that bad.” Ororo said with a sigh as she checked her hair in her dresser mirror. 

Jubilee, who was sitting in Ororo’s rolling desk chair, pushed herself off from the desk and rolled towards the dresser. “We’ll see about that. Now, trade places with me so that I can do your eye makeup.” she demanded. 

Ororo peered down at her skeptically. “I already did my eye makeup.” 

Jubilee leaned closer to Ororo and stared at her, squinting at the aforementioned makeup. “Uh-huh. Now I’m going to do it again, but better. Sit down.” 

“Jubilee, we don’t have time. We are almost late as it is.” Ororo pleaded. 

“Pfft! Who cares? They’re men! They like when you make them wait!” 

“Jubilee, he is German!” 

In the background, Jean lowered her head and pressed her fingertips to her temple for several seconds. She looked back up to say “Guys! Kurt just told me telepathically that they’ll be a few minutes late. Something about Scott having a clothing problem?” 

“Ha! Scott got himself caught in his zipper!” Jubilee squealed, before she and Ororo burst into laughter. 

“Ugh! Better not have!” Jean exclaimed. “Then we’d actually have to _watch_  the movie!” 

“I thought you weren’t into the whole ‘paradise by the dashboard light’ thing, Jean?” Jubilee questioned with a raised eyebrow. 

“Oh, well... I kinda warmed up to it. Maybe. I’ll give it a chance, anyways.” Jean replied with a shrug. “Also, I can just psychically force people to ignore me, so it’s really no different than doing it in a bedroom.” 

“That’s rad…” Jubilee sounded impressed. She stood up and stepped away from the desk chair and pointed to it. “’Ro, sit. Now.” 

Ororo crossed her arms and looked over to Jean in desperation. Jean shrugged and shook her head. “Sorry, ‘Ro. I’ve been in your position, and it really is just easier if you let her do what she wants.” Ororo tipped her head back and groaned in frustration before flopping into the desk chair. Jubilee clapped gleefully and started digging makeup out of Ororo’s makeup bag. 

“So, ‘Ro, what are your expectations for this evening? Other than maybe holding hands?” Jean asked with an impish look on her face. 

“Oh, Goddess, something. Anything. It’s starting to get ridiculous…” Ororo sighed, shaking her head as much as Jubilee’s attentions would allow her. “Before dinner, when I was preparing the vegetables for the stir-fry, I looked down and realized I had been lovingly washing a zucchini for about three minutes…” 

“Oh my God…” Jean huffed, shaking her head and trying to withhold laughter. 

“Fuck, ‘Ro, your life makes me sad…” Jubilee added seriously.   

“But that said, I am cautiously optimistic. I have something of a secret weapon.” Ororo added confidently, holding her head up. 

“Here we go with the ol’ ‘anti-bra’ rant…” Jubilee muttered wearily, eyeliner pencil in-hand. “And if you don’t hold still, you’re getting stabbed in the eye!” 

“It has nothing to do with bras! Although I am not wearing one…” Ororo countered. “And I’m not telling you two about it, because you’ll just laugh. I’ll tell you tomorrow if it works.” 

“Huh. Intriguing…” Jean replied. She packed her makeup and compact into her small purse, and rifled through a different compartment. “In that case, do you have a condom on you?” 

“Ha! I’m not quite _that_  optimistic!” Ororo laughed. “And also, I figured if I bought a box, they’d expire before I could use them…” 

“Well, take this one…” Jean telekinetically moved a condom from her purse to Ororo, who caught it easily and tucked it into the small pocket of her denim vest. “Just in case miracles do happen.” 

“Aaaand…you’re done!” Jubilee quipped, finally pulling away from Ororo’s face. “I have to say- some of my better work. You’ll notice the subtle cat’s eye with the liner, more of a ‘smoldering eye’ than a ‘smokey eye’ with the shadow. I kept the colors neutral and not too dark- I didn’t want to wash out your natural eye color…” 

“Wow…” Ororo breathed, leaning towards her mirror to inspect her makeup. “That’s fantastic. Thank you.” 

Jubilee crossed her arms and leaned back, admiring her artistry. “Anytime.” 

Jean hopped off the bed and threw her purse over her shoulder. “We ready, ladies?” 

******

 Jean and Ororo walked towards the main entrance of the mansion, but as they approached the top of the stairway, Jean held her hand up and stopped Ororo in her tracks. “Wait a minute- this is hilarious!” 

Down the stairs and near the front door, their two oblivious dates were bickering over the finer points of men’s fashion. 

“At least undo some buttons! You look like you’re going to a funeral!” Scott insisted, reaching for Kurt’s collar as Kurt weakly batted him away. 

“Who wears red to a funeral?” 

“And pop your collar!” 

“ _Nein_! I’ll look foolish!” 

“ _I_  pop my collar all the time…” Scott’s comment was met with conspicuous silence. 

Jean and Ororo decided to walk down the stairs just in time to prevent an argument. “Evening, boys! What’s this I hear about a clothing problem?” Jean called out with a smirk. Scott and Kurt quickly stepped away from each other, and tried to look nonchalant as they straightened out their clothes. She crossed the foyer to Scott’s side, and he quickly threw an arm around her shoulder as she gave him a peck on the cheek. 

“We feared the worst. There was talk of a zipper emergency.” Ororo added, equally impish. 

“What!? Nothing like that! Kurt didn’t like my outfit. He made me go change it.” Scott insisted, slightly embarrassed. He was now wearing a pair of faded jeans and one of his nicer polo shirts. 

“It had to be done. It was terrible.” Kurt replied in all seriousness. “It was unsightly.” 

“Come on! How bad could it be?” Jean laughed. 

“His pants were a green khaki, and his shirt was a bright, clashing shade of orange. His socks were red.” 

“Oh, God. That _is_  terrible.” Jean recoiled. Ororo made a face and shook her head. Scott put his hand on his forehead and sighed.      

Ororo took the last couple steps to Kurt’s side, and linked her elbow around his, resting her hand on his forearm. “You, however, look very nice this evening.” 

Kurt looked down bashfully for a second, before looking back up and taking her free hand in his and telling her “Ororo, _Du siehst wundershön aus_.” 

She smiled and pulled his hand closer to her. “English, please?” 

“Why? The language can’t do you justice.” 

Jean crossed her arms and stared up at Scott, eyebrows raised. Scott sighed and shook his head. “Okay, guys. There are, like, tons of nice words in English, too. Are we ready to head out?” 

Ororo and Kurt stopped staring at each other long enough to nod. “I have the snacks!” Kurt added, grabbing two canvas bags full of assorted candy and canned soda off the floor. 

“Great! Off we go…” Scott replied, and started moving towards the door. 

“Wait! We should probably let the other two know we’re going now, so they can’t get mad about not being invited…” Jean added hesitantly.   

“Why? They made it clear they didn’t want to come.” Scott asked with a huff. 

“True, but the only thing Jubilee hates more than the idea of going on a date is the idea of being left out of anything.” Ororo replied. 

“This will just take a second…” Jean said, and closed her eyes, pressing the fingers of one hand to her temple. Scott leaned against the doorway, trying not to look impatient. A second or two ticked by, until Jean suddenly wrenched her hand away, shaking her head dramatically, and muttering “Fucking gross…” under her breath. 

“They’re not c- they won’t be joining us.” Jean concluded, trying to appear calm. 

“That’s too bad. Perhaps another time.” Kurt replied sincerely. 

“They’re _busy_.” Jean reiterated intensely. 

“Say no more.” Ororo said, with a knowing wink. 

“I mean, I would say they’re _not coming_ , but _technically_ …” Jean continued, trailing off with a cringe. 

“Jean! _We get it_. God...” Scott pleaded. 

“They’re fucking.” 

Scott turned towards the door and let his forehead thump heavily against the frame. “Can we go now?” he mumbled quietly into the mahogany boards.   

Jean shrugged with a smile and pushed the door open, walking out with a spring in her step. Kurt and Ororo followed in kind, while Scott finally lifted his forehead off the door frame and followed wearily, sighing and rubbing his neck. 

******

 “So, basically, that’s what happened in the first _Police Academy_  movie, so hopefully the second one isn’t too hard to follow.” Scott concluded. He was driving with his right hand on the steering wheel, and his left arm hanging out the open window. Kurt sat beside him in the passenger seat, nodding along and listening intently, his hands clasped together on his lap. 

“It doesn’t sound too complicated.” 

“It isn’t. It was kinda a dumb movie.” 

Kurt nodding again, before asking “What about the second movie? It’s the fifth in a series, and I haven’t seen the first four.” 

“Oh! Ha! I wouldn’t worry about it.” Scott replied with an easy smile. “The _Friday the Thirteenth_ series is just all ‘big guy in a mask and coveralls chases sexy teenagers though the woods with a machete.’ Doesn’t matter which one you watch.” He paused in recollection and frowned. “Except the first one, where it turned out that his mom did it…” 

“Huh.” 

“Yep.” Scott drummed his fingers along the steering wheel idly for a second, before perking up suddenly. “Oh! Speaking of sexy teenagers…” Scott leaned back in his seat as far as his position would allow, using his free hand to reach deep into his front pants pocket. After some digging, he found what he had been seeking, and thrust his hand towards Kurt. Gripped between his fingers was a condom. “Here, take this. Just put it in your pocket.” 

Kurt leaned away and squinted skeptically at the foil wrapper. “Why?”   

Scott scoffed, but kept his arm extended towards Kurt. “Better safe than sorry, I guess? Like, horror movies just make some chicks really horny for some reason- I don’t understand it myself, but it’s a _thing_ \- and the seats in that car go _all the way back_ and, shit, I dunno- just take it.” 

“It’s our _first date_!” Kurt replied in a harsh whisper. He leaned back against the door of the car and crossed his arms, adding softly “We agreed we would take things slowly.” 

Scott sighed heavily and glanced over at Kurt, before quickly moving his view back to the road. “Look, I know. I know. It’s still your choice, and it’ll _always_  be your choice. It’s just that-” Scott paused and glanced at the darkened landscape as the car flew past, trying to collect his words. “Sometimes you find yourself in a situation where what you _thought_  you wanted _isn’t_  what you want anymore.”   

Kurt sat in complete silence with his hands clutching his knees for several seconds, until he suddenly reached out and snatched the condom out of Scott’s hand. “Fine.” he said abruptly, shoving it deep into his front pants pocket. “I will take it if it means you stop talking about it.” 

Scott smiled triumphantly. “That’s all I’ll ever ask.” He flicked the turn signal lever and turned onto the road the Drive-In was on. “And just in time! We’re here!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is a line from the chorus of "Sharp Dressed Man" by ZZ Top (1983).  
> Also, the next couple chapters are gonna be a bit longer and, um, "eventful" than the previous few. I don't wanna say it's gonna be a fuck-fest or anything, but I'm just saying that if sex/romance scenes aren't your thing, you might wanna just check back in a few weeks/a month. If sex/romance scenes ARE your thing, then you have that to look forward to, I guess!


	26. Paradise By The Dashboard Light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's date night at the Drive-In!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some (possibly more explicit than previous chapters) sexual content in in this chapter.  
> Spoiler alert for Friday the 13th: A New Beginning, which is the fifth Friday the 13th movie.

Ororo sat in the driver’s seat of the car she and Jean had taken to the Drive-In, fiddling with the radio settings. Similar to Kurt, Ororo was fully capable of driving a car, but had never obtained a legal driver’s license. But Jean, unlike Scott, generally encouraged Ororo to drive when they were together, with the promise of mentally manipulating their way out of any potential traffic tickets. The drive had been pleasant and uneventful, and once they met up with the boys, they managed to park close together near the back of the tree-surrounded property. Now, however, Jean had run off to the bathroom and Scott and Kurt had gone to the canteen for popcorn, leaving her alone in the dark confines of the car. 

She attempted to adjust the seat- to give herself more space- but when she pulled a lever located behind her feet, the back of the seat pitched forward, shoving her further down. She pulled the lever again and twisted around to shove the wayward seat back to it’s original position, but the sudden ‘BAMF’ in the passenger seat startled her so much she yelped and hit the horn with her elbow, startling her further.

Kurt, who had managed to only lose a couple of popcorn kernels, launched into his standard series of apologies. “Oh! I’m sorr-” He paused when he noticed her unfortunate positioning. “Would you like a hand?”     

She glanced up at him pleadingly as she searched for the same lever she had originally pulled, while simultaneously pushing the seat back. “Please.” 

With a little cooperation and minimal effort, they managed to return the seat to it’s original position. Kurt maintained his grip on it. “Were you trying to make it go back further?” 

Ororo sighed and re-situated herself, fixing her vest and smoothing her skirt. “No, not really. I was trying to move the whole seat back. Just to get a bit more breathing room.” 

Kurt nodded. Or at least she thought he did. He would never admit it, but once the ambient light reached a certain amount of dimness, he essentially started blending in with the darkness. She wasn’t sure if it was just his skin color, or if it was some unique quirk of his mutation. She just knew she wasn’t the only X-Man to nearly have a heart attack when a poorly-lit shadow started to move on its own. As it stood, although she normally found his company comforting, he shapelessly occupied the space beside her, somehow making the car both smaller and darker. 

He looked at her analytically for a second, and then cleared his throat. “’Breathing room’? It’s a little _constricted_  for you in here-isn’t it?” 

‘YES!’ is what she wanted to scream, but instead she waved his concern away and tried to look nonchalant. “Oh, it’s nothing. It was just a little stuffy.” 

“Because we can just leave. We don’t have to stay here. I can teleport us back home.” Kurt offered immediately and sympathetically. 

“Oh, no! No, you don’t need to do that! I’m fine, I’m just acting silly…” she argued, quickly reaching into his lap to grab one of his hands with both of hers. 

He leaned closer and placed his free hand on her shoulder. “Ororo…it’s not silly if you’re not comfortable.” 

His bright eyes dart over her features, evaluating her response. She ducks his gaze, staring at her hands in his lap. “I really wanted this to go well.” she whispered. 

“Oh, it will.” he counters in soft, even voice. He gently nudged her chin up with the very tip of his tail. “We can eat junk food and watch infomercials until two in the morning. It would be a good time.” 

Ororo suppressed a laugh despite herself. “Jean and Scott would miss us.” 

Kurt twisted around in his seat to peer at their two teammates in the adjacent vehicle. Ororo glanced over his shoulder and did not need his night-vision to tell that their friends were already full-on making out and oblivious to their surroundings. “Um, I don’t think they will…” Kurt concluded with a slight cringe. 

At the front of the theater, the large movie screen had started to flicker with movie previews. The audio echoed outside of the vehicle, but because Ororo hadn’t gotten a chance to set up the radio, they remained in relative silence. “It’s completely up to you.” Kurt assured again. She nodded slightly and pulled her hands back to her own lap, picking at her nails and biting her lip as she weighed her options. She hated the idea of bailing, but the idea of spending multiple hours in the car seemed impossible to fathom. She was barely tolerating it, and the previews had only just started.   

She hardly noticed him turn around in his seat, seemingly examining the grounds surrounding the car. Since they had parked near the back of the property, the area behind them was mostly just trees. He straightened out in his seat abruptly, staring towards the movie screen. “There is another option. It might not be a great idea, but we could try it…” he said tentatively. 

She cracked a smile. “’Not great’ ideas are my favorite type of idea.” 

He grinned, not unlike the Cheshire cat. “Well then…” He handed her their bag of snacks and the bag of popcorn. “You take _these_ , and I’ll…take _you_ , I guess…” He slipped one arm snugly around her waist, and wrapped his tail a couple of times around her knees. She opened her mouth to ask for elaboration, but her surroundings jolted wildly, and she found herself staring blankly into the night sky. 

He clutched her to his chest with one arm while he fussed over the best way to position everything. To her end, she clung to their snack hoard and tried to orient herself. It appeared that they were now very high up a large tree, sitting on a thick, smooth branch. Kurt sat with his back to the trunk, tail wrapped around the branch for security, one leg dangling off one side, and the other leg running along side the branch, gripping it with his odd, flexible foot. Ororo sat between his legs with both of hers dangling off the side of the branch. His grip on her waist was mainly to assure her, and the small of her back rested against the leg he held the branch with, keeping her from tipping backwards.   

Once they were settled, it became apparent that they had a perfect view of not only the movie screen, but also of anyone who happened to be making out in a convertible. The sky was flawlessly clear, and a smooth evening breeze whispered through the leaves. “We can just hang these here…” Kurt muttered, as he removed the snacks from her grip and hung the canvas bag on a nearby knobby branch. She exhaled a breath she had not even realized she was holding and leaned against his chest, relaxing totally. He slung both arms loosely around her waist. 

“Is this any better?” he asked, quietly and hesitantly. 

“Goddess, it’s perfect.” 

******

 Jean made her way back from the bathroom and pulled open the passenger-side door, throwing herself into the seat with a bounce. Scott, who now held a large bag of popcorn in his lap, instantly lit up. 

“That’s what I wanted to see!” she quipped with a smirk, and quickly reached out to grab a small handful of popcorn. “And also you’re here, so that’s cool!” 

Scott scoffed with a smile and rested the arm closest to her onto the back of the seat, a clear invitation. “C’mere.” he muttered, and she scooted across the seat to rest against his shoulder, trailing her hand across his stomach. He lowered his arm around her and pulled her closer, almost reflexively kissing the top of her head. “I’ve been so looking forward to this…” he spoke lowly into her hair. “Actually having some privacy for once…” 

“Ha!” Jean laughed sharply and sat up, gesturing towards all the cars surrounding them while looking at Scott pointedly. 

“Well, yeah, okay, but none of those people are paying attention!” Scott argued. “And none of them read minds! Or have X-ray vision! Or walk through walls, have super-sensitive hearing, or teleport into the room at the worst possible time…” 

“Technically, that last one is still a possibility.” Jean pointed out. 

“I told him if he did that, I’d punch him in the cock.” 

“Okay- _rude_!”   

“Well, maybe I didn’t state it outright, but I very strongly implied it!” 

Jean laughed skeptically and let herself fall back into her previous position, letting him pull her closer again. He tucked her head under his chin. “There are just some things I want to be only between us…” he eventually said quietly, with an unexpected seriousness. 

She run her hand down his chest, and then pulled away, moving back into the passenger seat. “The fact that we’re in a really nice car is just a bonus…” she said with a knowing smirk. 

He glanced downward sheepishly. “Well…” 

She run her hand across the back of the seat and smiled. “Like, this is a _really_  nice leather- they don’t make ‘em like this anymore! And no center console! Plus, I bet these seats go back pretty far….” She trailed off, pushing herself backwards until she leaned against the passenger-side door. She kicked off her sandals and set her legs in his lap, ankles crossed, and looked him over, fishing for a reaction. 

He set the popcorn bag into the backseat and ran the other hand up her calf. “Am I that transparent?” he asked, with a hint of embarrassment. 

She raised an eyebrow. “ _Literally_  every man on the _planet_  is.” 

He opened his mouth to say something, but could only shrug wordlessly. It served as enough of a conclusion that they each moved towards the middle of seating, instantly wrapping their arms around each other and kissing desperately. Time seemed to melt away, and when the audio of the movie previews started playing over the radio, Scott quickly reached out to turn the volume all the way down. 

They continued like that for who-knows-how-long, completely ignoring both the movie and the world around them. She leaned back against the car door, with her legs strewn across his lap. They broke the kiss only for air, and she sighed when he moved down her body, pausing to nip and kiss at her collarbone and the tops of her breasts. At the same time, he had run one hand up her leg, kneading at the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She ran her blunt nails through his hair and down his neck, and when he trailed his hand across the soft material of her underwear, she wriggled underneath him, trying to shift her position to give him better access. He paused to gently stroke her through the thin, dampening cotton, appreciating how her breath hitched as he did so. He wasn’t teasing her _intentionally_ , he just wasn’t in any rush. Jean, however, quickly became eager to move things along, shifting her hips and clutching his shoulders insistently. 

When she felt him finally curl his fingers around the waistband of her underwear, she instantly picked her hips up so he could slide them down her legs. As soon as she kicked them off her feet, she surged forward, bending her knee and setting it on the other side of his waist. She reached into his lap, palming him through worn denim and fumbling with his belt buckle. 

He grasped her thighs in surprise, and she started reaching towards the backseat with her free arm. “Hang on, there’s a condom in my purse…” she muttered breathlessly into his neck as she rummaged around.     

“I have one in my pocket, but we don’t need it right now.” he replied. She stilled and gave him a questioning glance. He rubbed up and down her thighs soothingly. “Can you lie back again? Like you were?” 

She did so, but hesitantly. He leaned over her again, gently pushing the hem of her dress up and planting a kiss on her knee. When he moved closer and kissed a spot further up her inner thigh, the penny dropped and her eyes widened. “Oh…um…you don’t have to do that.” she blurted.

Scott stopped instantly. “Well, of course we’ll stop if you don’t want me too, but I just thought you might like it…” His glasses made his expression impossible to read, but his tone is warm and patient. He traced a lazy pattern on the outside of her thigh with his fingertips as he waited for her to respond. 

“It…it’s fine, just if you think it’s gross or whatever, you don’t have to- it’s fine…” she stammered, looking away. 

He pulled back slightly. “…Why would I think that?” 

“I don’t know- it’s just the kind of thing some people think is gross-” 

Scott sat up straighter, suddenly very serious. “How could we be together if I thought of you that way?” When she only gave a slight, silent shrug in response, he pressed further. “Have you ever heard me tell you I thought you were beautiful, except for some parts that are gross?” 

She scoffed and relaxed slightly. “Well, no, I suppose not.” 

“Exactly.” he stated, with feeling. He picked her hand up and pressed it to the side of his head, just above the arm of his glasses. “Obviously, if you’re not comfortable, there’s no pressure. But the only reason I’ve waited this long to do this is because I wasn’t sure what to do, and I didn’t want to get down there and just annoy you or waste your time.” He paused for a beat before adding. “Just read my mind if you don’t believe me.”   

She sat up quickly, squeezing his waist with her legs, gripping the back of his head with the hand he had set there, wrapping the other arm around his neck. They kissed _hard_ , and she bit his lip teasingly as his grinned against her mouth. “I know I don’t need to do that.” she whispered 

He laid her gently back down on the leather seat, and again he moved down her body, gently lifting her dress and kissing and caressing his way up her thigh. “Just tell me what you like, or if you want me to stop…” he mentioned, almost sounding like an afterthought. She nodded silently and bit her lip, trying to ignore any lingering self-conscious feeling. The inside of the car had started to feel like their own microcosm, as if there was no one else in the world. She’s hyper-aware of the heat of his breath now, and of the heat coming off _her_ , and just as she started to think ‘what is he waiting for?’ he dipped forward with a gentle, experimental lick. She gasps softly- the sensation is pleasant, unexpected, and little ticklish. He does it again, but harder, and starts rubbing her clit in slow circles with his thumb. The intensity of the dual sensations comes as a legitimate surprise, and she moves to grip his hair with one hand while bracing the other on the back of the car seat. 

Encouraged, he continued his exploration, trying to note what causes her to moan, what causes her legs to shake. When he licked at her hot, increasingly wet opening, she bucked her hips towards him and tightened her grip on his hair. With that in mind, he re-positioned this hand so he could gently work two fingers into her, while turning his attention to that hardened, sensitive nub. He sucked it and rubbed it with the flat of his tongue, all while trying to find the right rhythm with his hands. He must have been on the right track, because her hips bucked involuntarily and she drew a sharp, shuddering gasp, muttering “Yesyesyes-that’s it…” on the exhale. 

She managed to restrain herself from wrapping her legs right around his head. She gripped his hair and bit her lip to keep from moaning too loudly- she was only vaguely cognizant that they were still in a public space. It felt like nothing she had ever felt before, or had even imagined. She had completely lost track of time, only knowing that everything felt more intense by the second. She tried to keep her encouragements as coherent words, just like she had tried to keep her legs from trembling and her hips from moving and chasing the sensation of his mouth and his fingers. It was a losing battle. When she felt herself slip over the edge, she squeezed her thighs against his shoulders and clutched at his head, uttering a high-pitched groan when her orgasm moved over her in waves. He kept working throughout it, only increasing the intensity, and she could feel him tense up in her embrace. He only stops when she collapses completely, relinquishing her grip on his hair and letting her legs fall to the side. 

He lay with his head on her hip for a few seconds, both of them catching their breath and getting their bearings. Finally he sat up and handed her her underwear while wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. He watched her sort herself out for a few seconds before asking quietly “Was that okay?” 

She laughed. “Seriously? Oh my God…” She finished fixing her clothes and scooted close to him again. “It was amazing! Incredible! I don’t know how I could have been more clear about that…” 

He nodded quietly, his expression unreadable behind his glasses. 

Her smile fell away. “What is it? Did I do something wrong?” 

He reeled back, then held his hands up. “Oh, no! No, nothing like that! It’s just that, uh…” He trailed off, drumming his fingers on the seat as he struggled to find his words. “I think that I might have…um…Like, towards the end, when you came- I think I kind of felt that? Is that possible?” 

“Oh…Maybe? What was it like?” Jean tilted her head in confusion. 

“Like really intense, warm, pulses or waves in this area-” Scott motioned towards his lower abdomen and groin. Jean nodded along. “But, it was kind of in my head rather than on my body- like when you have a song stuck in your head, rather than hear it on the radio.” 

Jean crossed her arms and let herself fall against his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her. “Hmm…I guess I could have _projected_  a bit- it was really intense and I _was_  touching your head.” He nodded thoughtfully. “Um, sorry about that.” she added with a slight cringe. 

“Oh, no! Don’t apologize!” he pleaded. “It was…whoo, man- it was something… Definitely not a bad thing!” He smiled down at her and rubbed her shoulder affectionately. “It just, um…gives me a lot to think about…” 

“You have a unique perspective into the world of women now!” Jean pointed out with a smile. 

Scott nodded, and then frowned with a sudden thought. “Assuming it was just me that you projected to, and not everyone in a certain radius…” 

Jean blanched at the possibility, and they both looked around them, eyeing the other patrons of the Drive-In. The only people they could see were staring blankly at the screen, mindlessly stuffing popcorn in their faces. “Pretty sure it’s just you.” Jean assured. 

“Although that would be a great superpower.” Scott said with a nod. “Talk about ‘make love, not war!’” 

Jean sighed and relaxed against him. “It would do wonders for human-mutant relations.” 

He chuckled quietly and stared ahead, actually looking at the movie screen for the first time all evening. She retrieved the popcorn from the backseat and they both started snacking and watching a dumb cop movie while snuggling in the driver’s seat. After several minutes, she looked up at him laughing quietly at a scene in the movie and she smiles to herself, snuggling in closer. Eventually, it occurs to her for the first time to look into the adjacent car to see how the other half of the double-date was fairing. 

“Oh. Where the hell did they go?” she said suddenly, when it appeared that the other car was empty. 

“I dunno. More snacks, maybe?” Scott replied with a disinterested shrug. 

“I didn’t hear the car door open or shut…” Jean replied curiously. 

“Maybe they’re making out?” Scott offered. 

“So hard that they rolled off the seat? That car’s smaller than this one. I don’t see a foot or hand or tail or anything to indicate there’s anyone in there.” 

“Well, I dunno about Ororo, but Kurt can essentially fold up like a pretzel.” 

“Then I’m sure that’s what they did…” Jean replied sarcastically. 

“I can check on them, if it bothers you so much…” Scott said with a shrug. 

“Oh, no. I could seek them out if I was worried. They’re adults. They don’t need our supervision.” Jean concluded, patting his arm. She smirked and added, “Plus, I don’t want you to get punched in the cock.”   

******

 Kurt and Ororo remained on the tree branch, laughing along to the movie. She had entwined her legs around the one he was dangling, and they idly swung them together. She leaned against his chest as she sipped the last of her can of soda, and he kept one arm loosely slung around her waist while the other hand held the bag of Skittles he was snacking on. She drained the last of her can and deftly tossed it into the bag that held their snacks. She shifted to stare at him, trying to see how long it would take for him to notice. 

Seconds ticked by. “Oh, did you want some?” he asked innocently, offering the bag of Skittles. 

“Hmm. No, I want to kiss you.” she stated, tilting her chin up. She immediately shifted her position to face him better. He hastily stuffed the Skittle bag into his pants pocket, just as she moved her hands over his shoulders and around to the back of his neck. 

Her eyes slipped shut and she moved closer to him. Just centimeters away from his face, he blurted “You might miss the movie.” 

She turned her head and laughed sharply despite herself, shaking her head. She moved her hands to both sides of his face and locked eyes with him. “It’s a _stupid_  movie.” 

“You’re right…” he agreed under his breath, a fraction of a second before he tightened his grip on her waist, pressing their lips together and pulling her partially onto his lap. She slung one arm around his neck and carded the other hand through his hair as she actually started to kiss him in earnest. 

His inexperience was showing, but he’s a fast learner. It doesn’t take much for him to pick up on how to tilt his head, how to move his mouth along with hers. He held her close, running his hands up and down the thick denim of her vest, making her regret not leaving the garment in the car. When one hand moved up the back of her neck to cup her skull, a shiver ran down her spine and she surged closer, grabbing the sides of his face and managing to slip her tongue into his mouth and across the smooth surface of his teeth. 

Just like last time, she can immediately feel his jaw tense and he tried to pull back, but was impeded by the trunk of the tree. Instead, he turned his head to the side, breaking the kiss. He looked down, trying to avoid her questioning gaze. “You shouldn’t, um…” he stammered, and trailed off. 

She brought him to face her with a hand on his chin, and he looked anxious, guilty, and at a complete loss for words. “I don’t have normal teeth.” he finally blurted, after several seconds of her staring at him. 

She shrugged and sighed wearily. “ _I know_.” 

“If we keep going, you could get hurt.” 

“You aren’t a _shark!_ ” 

“ _Doch _-__ ” 

She silenced him with a raised hand and a wry smile. “How about we just agree to give it a try, and if I scrape my tongue or something, you’ll just have to eat the rest of the popcorn yourself?” 

He scoffed and half-smiled, crossing his arms. “You are truly stubborn.” 

She moved closer to him again, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing the corner of his mouth. She leaned her forehead against his to say “I’m not stubborn. I just know what I want.” 

And just like that, she got it. 

******

 Scott picked through the box of Runts candy, hunting for the elusive strawberry pieces while he stared at the movie screen with disinterest. Leaning against his chest, Jean watched with rapt attention, gleefully sifting through the last of the popcorn. On screen, an unfortunate soul met his demise by way of a road flare in the mouth. She almost choked on her popcorn during the resulting giggle-fit, which carried on so long that Scott furrowed his brow and turned to stare at her. 

“What?!” she squeaked between laughter when she finally noticed him watching. 

“Should I be worried? I didn’t think this was supposed to be a comedy.” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Pfft! That guy wandered into the woods to pee in a horror movie! What did he expect would happen?!” 

“I don’t think the characters know they’re in a horror movie!” 

“But _still_!” 

“Besides! Isn’t Jason supposed to be some kinda cool zombie ghost? I’m seeing a _distinct lack_  of zombie-ghost action here…” he added with irritation. 

“Aw, you don’t like the movie?” Jean asked sympathetically. 

Scott shrugged. “It’s not as good as the last one.” he said, setting the box of candy in the cup holder. “Plus, I think I’d like it a bit better if I could actually tell when people are bleeding…”    

Jean stared up at him and nodded solemnly. “Oh yeah, for sure. There is a ton of blood. Like, gallons of it.” 

She watched him frown slightly and nod, radiating a deep boredom. She nudged him slightly with her elbow. “Did you want to do something else? Like, take a walk or something?” 

“Oh? Nah, I’m fine. You like the movie. I don’t want you to miss it all.” 

“Well, it’s not exactly Shakespeare. I’m sure we could miss a few minutes and I could still follow this intricate plot.” 

Scott shrugged. “Nah, that’s okay.” 

“Or…I might have an even better idea…” Jean whispered lowly, close to his ear. She roughly ran her hand up his thigh to paw at his groin. 

He sighed and shifted in his seat, allowing her to continue uninterrupted for several seconds, until she started making short work of his belt, button, and zipper. “Whoa…um, okay…” he muttered in surprise. 

“Oh, NOW you’re shy…” she replied with a laugh. She quickly freed him from his boxers and started giving a series of light strokes until she noticed he hadn’t said anything. “If you don’t want me to…” she said tentatively, stilling her hand. 

“It’s just- after what happened last time…” he blurted. 

Jean scoffed and her shoulders slumped. She looked up at him with exasperation. “So, we’ll just try _not_ to do that this time.” 

“Um, sure.”

“Seriously. Just relax.” she insisted with a warm smile. She resumed stroking him, harder and faster this time. “Just, like, try not to accidentally honk the horn or anything like that.” she added with a smirk. She punctuated the statement by twisting her grip on him and running her thumb over the already-slick head. He stifled a moan and nodded wordlessly. 

He had leaned back as far as the leather seat would allow, staring at the ceiling. Jean guessed that his eyes were probably shut. She lowered her head into his lap, immediately licking up the length of his shaft and over the tip. He inhaled sharply and ran his hand affectionately across her mostly-bare neck and shoulders. 

“Oh! Before I forget- if anything really cool happens in the movie, can you keep it in mind so you can describe it to me later?” she said in a pleasant, slightly teasing tone. He could only manage an affirmative-sounding grunt before she dipped her head down again, enveloping him almost entirely. 

He absolutely did not pay any attention to the movie whatsoever. 

******

 Ororo and Kurt shared the last of the popcorn as they watched the second movie in relative silence. He still had his back to the tree trunk, while she now leaned with her back against his chest and both legs up on the length of the branch they were on. He kept one arm around her waist for security, the other hand regularly took popcorn out of the bag she held in her lap. 

They had spent most of the last movie and the first minutes of this one making out. His teeth, they were both relieved to find, were really more pointy than sharp, and did not pose much of an obstacle. Oddly, she noted, he tasted mostly like Skittles but also sort of like the burnt part of a toasted marshmallow. 

As with everything, he had initially let her take the lead. When she first let her tongue slip into his mouth, he had stilled completely in apprehension, waiting for the inevitable disaster. When that never happened, he cautiously started to kiss her back, mimicking how she moved and shyly trying what felt right. She had shifted into his lap, mostly straddling him, and he boldly ran his hands up the gauzy material that covered her thighs and under her vest to encircle her slim, bare waist. 

Every touch, every move is sweet, insistent, but restrained. Like he’s afraid to break the spell, and just trying to hoard the experience. Her distant hope that he’d be willing to push things further were dashed shortly after the second movie started, and he began shifting uncomfortably under her and trying to put some space between them. He moved to kiss her cheek and forehead instead, and shifted her off his lap. Reluctantly, she let him resettle them so she leaned against his chest again, with her head under his chin.   

She tried to remind herself that it made sense for him to want to slow things down. He’d never gone this far with a woman before, and he was probably embarrassed of how his own body was reacting. To compound things, the second movie was rife with graphic sex and violence, which he may have found off-putting. Also, she thought with amusement, they were sitting in a damn tree.   

Currently, the movie was beginning it’s second explicit sex scene. Ororo laughed quietly when she noticed Kurt huff and look away in embarrassment. 

“There is certainly a lot of this in this movie…” he mumbled under his breath. 

She laughed again and patted his knee. “Yes. And there isn’t even a safe place to look!” She pointed to an area furthest to their left in the middle row of cars. “Those people in the green convertible are also having sex.” 

His expression turned skeptical and he squinted at the area she was indicating. When it became clear that she spoke the truth, he gasped “ _Gott im Himmel_ …”and looked away again. 

She burst into laughter at his apparent innocence as he glared at her, trying to look indignant. “What? We shouldn’t look! Such things are private!” 

She laughed harder. “If they’re doing that _here_ , it’s because they _want_ people to look!” 

“I’m sure they didn’t account for people with our vantage point!” 

“Even still- if they valued their privacy, they wouldn’t have left the top down!” 

He crossed his arms stubbornly. “I’m still not going to look.” 

“Fine. If you prefer, you can look over there…” she said with an impish smile as she pointed to the opposite side of the property, towards the back. “The same thing is happening, but more discretely. What is it Peter says? ‘If the van’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’?’” 

Kurt stared begrudgingly in the direction she pointed to, and sighed. “You really do have an eye for this sort of thing.” 

“Ha! Yes I do.” she confirmed, smiling confidently. “It used to be part of my job.” 

“Oh?” 

“Yes. See, because many people in Cairo were conservative, and dating was often frowned upon, there were several places that lovers would go, where they could expect privacy. Or at least discretion.” she explained. “I would also go there, because it was an easy way to make money. I would just loiter about until I noticed that a couple in a car was sufficiently _distracted_ , and then…” 

“Take their picture and sell it back to them?” Kurt suggested with a smirk. 

“Of course. Didn’t I tell you about my past life as a pornographer?” she replied with a grin, and they both laughed. “But really, I just reached in the car window and took things. It was much easier than regular street pickpocketing…” 

“I can imagine.” 

“The only downside is that I was constantly being propositioned by essentially every man on the planet.” she added with cringe. 

“That sounds frightening.” Kurt said in a quiet, serious tone. 

“ A quick lightening bolt to the groin would silence anyone who was being inappropriate.” She held up a hand that now sparkled with tiny crackles of electricity. “Mainly, it was annoying. That’s actually why I decided to style my hair this way. My whole life, I had long, thick, beautiful hair. I thought that if I cut almost all of it off, I’d avoid some attention…” 

She sat forward, turning towards the screen to dangle her legs off the branch again. She ran her previously-electrified hand through her Mohawk and smiled. “As it turned out, I got _even more_  attention- just from stranger men!”   

Kurt leaned closer to her and reached out to entwine his hand in hers. He pulled her hand to his face, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “And then you come here, only to be saddled with the attention of the strangest man.” 

“So it was worth it in the long run…” she replied with a warm smile, tracing his jawline with a knuckle. He looked down bashfully and gave her hand a squeeze. She helped herself to some more popcorn before adding “It wasn’t all fun and games, though. That’s where my friend with the eyepatch lost his eye.” 

Kurt frowned and his eyes widened. “Do I even want to know?” 

“Ha! If you recall, he was a car thief. He got ‘caught in the act’ of hot-wiring a car who’s occupants had snuck off for some privacy. The owner slashed at his face with a pocket knife.” she recalled matter-of-factly. Kurt winced. “The only reason he escaped with his life is because the man still had his pants around his ankles, so he ran away.” 

Kurt bit his lip and nodded, unsure of whether he should laugh. “I bet your pirate boyfriend changed that story a little when he told it to other people…” 

Ororo laughed and nodded emphatically. “Yes! Every time!” She shrugged and reached into the popcorn bag again, only to crumple it and toss it into their snack bag when it proved to be empty. “And he wasn’t ever really my boyfriend. He was…I guess you could say he just took me for rides in fast cars, back when I was young and easily impressed.” 

Kurt gave a light-hearted scoff and motioned down towards the car that Jean and Scott were still in, and had not ever emerged from. “What is it with people and cars?” 

Ororo suppressed a sharp laugh and her eyes widened. “Pfft! Don’t lump me in with him! I can appreciate a well-tuned motor, but I don’t have a whole fetish about it!” 

Kurt’s expression turned serious. “Thank you for reminding me how awkward the drive home with him is going to be.” 

Ororo burst into laughter, which continued even as Kurt crossed his arms and stared in mock-sternness. She slipped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder, causing him to finally crack a smile. “You can always ride back with Jean and I. She might even let you drive.” 

He shook his head “Oh, no. If you two are anything like _meine Schwester _,__  I wouldn’t want to encroach on your ‘girl-talk.’” 

She breathed a small laugh and patted his chest. “Good.” 

They continued to chat while cuddling on the tree branch for the rest of the gory, messy movie. After the lame twist ending played out and the credits started to roll, they both straightened up and did a last-minuted check to make sure they had everything they brought with them. Ororo clutched their snack bag while Kurt slipped an arm around her waist in preparation to teleport them back to the ground. At the last second, however, they both noticed Scott and Jean’s driver-side door open and Scott step out, apparently to search for them. 

“Wait! This should be good.” Ororo whispered after raising a hand. They snickered together as they watched Scott peer into the passenger-side window, and then the back seat window. He then stood with his hands on his hips, looking from side-to-side as he surveyed the landscape. After a few seconds, he looked into the back seat window again. 

“Wow. He really believes we’re in that car, doesn’t he?” Kurt muttered as Ororo shook her head silently. 

“If he checks the trunk, I’ll fall out of this tree laughing.” Ororo replied. 

“If I ever go missing, please don’t let him organize my search party!” Kurt mock-pleaded. Just as he spoke, they watched Scott crouch down and actually look under the car. 

“Did he just…” 

“Does he think we got scared and hid?” 

“Next summer’s big horror movie hit will be called ‘ _The Cyclops_.’ Tag-line: You can’t run, but you can definitely hide!” Ororo teased. 

Kurt scoffed and grinned. “Oh, you can run. His legs are short. He’s not that fast.” 

Ororo burst into laughter. “Alright, then. The tag-line will be ‘You can run, you can hide, but just don’t stand directly in front of him.’” 

“Ha! I’m already scared!” 

They laughed together again as they watched Jean step out of the passenger-side door and straighten out her dress. By this point, the other patrons of the Drive-In were starting to leave. Ororo noted Jean press her fingers to her temple, and anticipated the voice in her head. 

* _Okay, guys! The jig is up. Come out, come out, where-ever you are!_ * 

Ororo closed her eyes in concentration and projected back * _I really have no idea what you are talking about._ * 

* _Seriously, ‘Ro?! He’s getting all worried. It’s pitiful._ * 

Ororo sighed and turned to Kurt. “Alright. It’s time to make our presence known.” 

Kurt called out “Up here!” while Ororo whistled by sticking her thumb and index finger in her mouth. They both waved to get Scott’s attention, and then started laughing again as he looked up to them and let his arms flop down at his sides in exasperation. They could faintly hear Jean call out “I told you!” 

Kurt unraveled his tail from the branch and quickly looped it around Ororo’s waist instead. She wrapped her fingers around it without even thinking, and in an instant they appeared together on the ground in front of Scott. Scott startled briefly before crossing his arms and shaking his head at them in amused frustration. 

“Up a tree, guys? Seriously?” 

“The sound is just better. Picture quality, as well.” Kurt explained, while not sounding entirely convincing. 

“It’s clear, once you are up there, that that is the way the films are intended to be viewed.” Ororo agreed. 

“Right.” Scott replied skeptically. “Anyway, are we good to go?” 

Jean fished the car keys out of her purse and dramatically tossed them to Ororo, who caught them with a grin. Jean moved quickly towards the passenger side of the car she and Ororo had arrived in, pausing to give Scott a quick kiss. 

“See you back at the house!” she said cheerfully, to which Scott only smiled and waved. 

Seeing this small display of affection, Kurt turned to Ororo somewhat awkwardly, seeming to indicate he wasn’t quite sure how to say goodbye. He brought his hand up to her shoulder to brush at the bare skin with his knuckle. She responded by wrapping her arms around his chest and pulling herself to him, kissing his mouth and jawline. 

“You’ll come see me when you two get back, right?” she breathed into the space between them. It wasn’t really a question. 

She can hear him take a deep breath and swallow before answering. “Sure, if you want.” 

“I do want.” 

The sound of Scott’s car’s horn blaring was so sudden and loud that Kurt yelped and clutched Ororo on reflex, jumping about a foot. He managed to restrain himself from teleporting anywhere. 

“Get a move on, people!” Scott shouted, leaning his head and shoulder out of the driver’s side window. 

“ ** **RUDE**** , Scott!” Jean accused from the passenger side of the other car. 

Kurt carefully unhanded Ororo while exhaling a shaky sigh. He jerked his head in Scott’s direction. “Well, I should go. I’m in trouble.” 

“Ha! Indeed you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is the title of the 1977 Meat Loaf song. It's about bangin' in a car. So there. A little 'on-the-nose'? Maybe.  
> Note: Scott finally reciprocated! It took him 17 chapters, but he did it!  
> Also: Next chapter will also have sexual content. If this isn't your thing, please check back after a couple weeks.  
> I was also curious- some of the last chapters of the story that I'm writing right now are looking like they're going to be pretty long. Like, maybe awkwardly long. Some of them, though, I could divide into two without disrupting the flow of the story. Do you guys prefer fewer longer chapters, or more shorter chapters?


	27. Young Hearts Be Free Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Drive-In, everyone returned to their own rooms at a reasonable time and got eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. Or, you know, maybe the opposite of that happened...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This long-ass chapter has it all! Feelings! Sex! Pizza! House plants!

“Die! Fuckers.” 

Jubilee lay across the middle of Peter’s bed on her stomach, eyes locked on his TV screen as alien invaders exploded into oblivion. Her arms dangled off the side, working the joystick frantically as the difficulty increased over time. A few feet away, Peter sat cross-legged with a stack of records on his lap, idly skimming through liner notes of seventies-era prog-rock concept albums. 

Neither of them had bothered to get fully re-dressed after Jean mentally ‘walked in’ on them earlier in the evening. Peter had pulled on his worn-out gray jeans, but hadn’t bothered to fasten them, while Jubilee wore only her underwear and his ancient Rush t-shirt. 

Jubilee bent her knees and kicked her feet up, hunching her shoulders and she battled alien spacecraft with increasing aggression. Noting the commotion, Peter set his records aside and lay down on his elbows next to her. “Tell ya one thing-” she said, without moving her eyes from the screen, “after this level is over or I die, I gotta get something to eat. I’m fucking starved.” She jerked her head in his direction without averting her eyes. “What about you?” 

Peter pushed himself up off the bed with one arm, moving his eyes from the screen to the faded tour dates printed on the back of the borderline-translucent T-shirt she wore, down to the hot-pink satiny underwear, and the subtle crease where the smooth curve of her ass met her thigh. With a nanosecond of consideration and no warning, he replied “Huh, yeah- I could go for a bite.” before quickly ducking down to playfully nip her exposed butt cheek. 

She yelped in surprise and dropped the controller, swinging her arm around to swat him away. However, she misjudged his position and the back of her hand connected hard with the side of his face, resulting in a loud ‘SMACK’ that resounded through the room. 

“Ah! Sorry!” 

“Harder!” 

They had blurted at each other simultaneously, and then were stuck staring at each other in uncomfortable, questioning silence. The ‘Game Over’ screen went completely unnoticed as Jubilee partially rolled over and furrowed her brow at him as she awaited an elaboration. To his end, Peter sat up and gave an overdramatic shrug and tried to play it casual, tossing his hair and sorting out his records. 

“So _anyway_ -” Jubilee finally said pointedly, just to break the silence. “I’m hungry, so I’m getting food. You want any?” 

“Oh!” Peter exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “I got ya covered! There are some Twinkies under my bed…” He turned around and leaned over the opposite side of the bed, digging at the assortment of things he had shoved under there. 

“I don’t want your gross, dusty stash of floor food from nineteen-seventy-eight. I wanna go get something from the kitchen.” 

“Okay, well, first of all-” Peter huffed as he hoisted himself back up to the bed, tattered Twinkie box in-hand, “these are only about six weeks expired, so _ ** **pfft**** _!”__  he punctuated by blowing a raspberry.Jubilee rolled her eyes as he gleefully tore open a Twinkie wrapper _ _. “__ Plus,” he added with his mouth full, “everyone knows Twinkies never go bad, so I bet you feel pretty stupid right now.”

Jubilee scoffed. “As if. Besides, unlike you, I actually need nutrients other than sugar to survive. I’m going downstairs to get some leftovers, or maybe cook a pizza.”

He watched her step into her embellished denim cutoff shorts and quickly moved to appear instantly by her side, now with his pants fastened and a new t-shirt shirt on. “Not so fast! I’m coming too.” 

She shrugged as she slipped on her shoes. “Fine by me. Lemme just get my bra and my own shirt back on and-” 

“Why bother? You look fine like that.” he blurted, nodding too much. 

She skeptically raised an eyebrow and held her arms away from her body. “So you’re telling me you _can’t_ see my nipples through this material?” 

“Nope. Not at all.” 

She looked down at her own chest. “Ugh. You are the worst fucking liar.” 

******

 “So anyway- if they make a sixth _Friday the Thirteenth_  movie, I don’t know if I’ll bother seeing it. I liked the first four, but if this is the direction they’re taking the series…” Scott trailed off as he pulled into the designated parking space for the car he and Kurt had borrowed for the evening. Because they had stopped for gas on the way home, they were later returning than Ororo and Jean. 

Kurt nodded along, as he had done for almost the entire ride. Scott put the car in park and looked over at Kurt. “Oh! I forgot to ask you- how did your first-ever date go?” 

Kurt shrugged slightly as he unbuckled his seat belt. “Good, I think. But I do have a question…” 

“Yes?” Scott perked up, giving Kurt his complete attention. 

“The man from the police movie- the one that made all the strange sounds- do you think he is a mutant?” 

“Uh, no. I think he’s just an actor.” 

“Oh. Okay.” 

Scott nodded slightly and tapped his finger idly on the steering wheel. “Yup. So, ‘Ro wants you to meet her back in her room, then?” 

“Yes, it appears that way.” 

“Nice. I’d say your date went pretty well, then.” Scott smiled, then added quietly, “You still have that condom I gave you earlier, right?” 

Kurt folded his hands in his lap and donned a deadpan expression. “No, we used that one already. Could I maybe borrow another?” 

Scott gasped. “What!? _Really_!?” 

“ _Mein Gott_ , Scott! I am joking! We were _in a tree_!” Kurt exclaimed, crossing his arms in exasperation. 

“Well, I mean, if any couple I know _was_  going to do it in a tree, it’d be you guys…” 

“Tree or no tree- it was still a first date.” Kurt stated seriously. “Plus, the bark was quite rough, so…” 

“Ha! So you _at least_  thought about it!” Scott exclaimed, pointing at Kurt. 

Kurt shrugged and looked down, wringing his hands. “Who _wouldn’t_  think about it?” he muttered quietly. 

Scott grinned smugly and opened the car door, stepping out. Kurt followed suit and caught up to him in a few quick steps. He shoved his hands in his pockets and leaned close to Scott as they both walked out of the garage and towards the mansion. “But what does this mean, now? Are we a couple? Is she my _Freundin_? Girlfriend? How does this work?” he asked in a hushed tone, as if someone might hear them. 

Scott sighed. “That’s a good question. I think Peter might actually have a point here about relationships not really needing labels. There’s more than one way to skin a cat.” 

Kurt stopped dead in his tracks. “What an awful thing to do to a cat.” 

“Dude! Come on-” 

“What is even the point? You aren’t going to wear it.” Kurt continued, with a grave expression. “Jubilation will be very upset when she finds out.” 

“Kurt, knock it off!” Scott pleaded. “I’ve never _actually_  skinned a cat! It’s just an expression people use to say that there is more than one solution to a problem.” Kurt visibly relaxed. “I’m just saying that you don’t necessarily need to figure everything out right now. Give it some time and see what you’re both comfortable with.” 

Kurt nodded and smiled slightly. “That’s fair.” 

“Okay. Promise you won’t tell Jubes I skinned a cat?” 

“I promise.” 

“Perfect. Now, we better get a move on.” Scott said, giving Kurt a friendly pat on the shoulder as he started walking briskly towards the house. “You shouldn’t keep a lady waiting!” 

“Ha! I don’t intend to.” Kurt replied with a impish look, before teleporting away with a loud ‘BAMF,’ leaving Scott shaking his head in a cloud of black smoke. 

******

 “Hey! What took you so long?” 

“Well, we had to stop for gas, and then I had a kinda man-to-man chat with Kurt,” Scott explained, having entered Jean’s room, shut the door, and kicked off his shoes. “and then he goes and teleports away, so I had to actually walk up two flights of stairs like a sucker…” 

“Oh, poor baby.” Jean deadpanned from her bed. She tossed her hair before crossing her arms. “Now, are you just gonna stand there, or…”   

He swiftly crossed the distance to her bed and hopped into it, landing already stretched out with his arms behind his head, with enough force that Jean bounced and laughed. When the dust settled, she leaned down to kiss him before laying down with her head in the crook of his arm. 

“So…about _earlier_ …” she started, running her hand across his chest, “are you going to tell me how you learned to do that, or is it a secret?” 

Scott’s expression quickly shifted from contented to serious. “Well, um...” he replied tentatively. “Promise you won’t get mad?” 

She rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her elbow on the bed, and her other hand on her hip. “I have never promised that, and I never will.” 

Scott huffed a laugh and smiled despite himself. “Okay, so you might have heard that I walked in on Peter and Jubes doing that in the library one day…” 

Jean scoffed. “Oh, yeah. Jubes ensured I ‘heard about’ it very much.” 

“Well, anyway- later on, out of curiosity, I asked Peter about it. As it turns out, he’s a bit of an enthusiast…” 

“Ha! No way!” 

“Yes way. He _insisted_  on giving me and Kurt, like, a half-hour lecture on how to go down on women. It was very in-depth. There are notes and everything. I mean, if you can read German…” 

“Oh, God…” Jean muttered before laughing. She collapsed back into the crook of his arm and added, “If you’re any indication, maybe he should just write an instructional book and make millions.” 

Scott seemed to look away, and even in the dim light Jean could almost swear he was blushing. Psychically, though, she detects a hint of smugness. She smiled to herself and snuggles in closer, and he wraps his arm around her to give her a squeeze. 

Just when she starts to think he might be falling asleep, she trailed her fingertips up to play with the embroidered logo on the front of his polo shirt. “So…what do you wanna do?” 

“Huh, what? Oh…” Scott shuddered as he quickly returned to wakefulness. “Whatever you want. We can just hang out, or…” 

“Or…” Jean echoed, staring at him side-on. He looked almost about to drift off again. She moved her fingers ever-so-slightly as she narrowed her eyes in concentration. She grinned and had to muffle a laugh when she saw how long it was taking him to notice that his belt was now undoing itself. 

“Hey! Knock it off!” he exclaimed in surprise when she had finished with the buckle and was now working on the button underneath it. His hands flew up and off her, and grabbed at the wayward belt. 

“Okay, okay! Sorry!” she replied, holding her hands up and actually sounding a little guilty. 

“Ha! Well, okay- maybe _don’t_  knock it off.” he laughed at his own expense. She stared at him skeptically. “I just- I dunno, I dozed off for a second, and then looked down and thought my belt was possessed or something…” 

Jean stared at him blankly for a beat, and then burst into laughter when it appeared he was actually serious. 

“What!? It’s still a better twist ending than that stupid movie had!” 

******

 Ororo sat on the edge of her bed with her feet up on the bed-frame, bouncing her leg impatiently. She had tossed her denim vest into the bed as soon as she had walked in the door, and thrown open her room’s large window to let the breeze though. She had just started thinking that Kurt must have misunderstood her, or gotten cold feet, when a muffled ‘BAMF’ sound could be heard from the other side of her door. Sure enough, a split second later, two firm knocks were heard on her door. 

“Come in!” she called out, trying to sound casual. 

Kurt teleported into her room, appearing adjacent to her desk, as he always did. “ _Hallo_ , again!” he said cheerfully. 

She smiled and stood up. “How was your ride back with Scott?” 

Kurt shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “Oh, not bad. We stopped for gas. That’s why we were later getting back.” 

“So he didn’t burden you with a ton of unwanted details, then?” 

“No, actually. All he talked about for the whole ride was the second movie.” 

“Oh? Did he like it?” 

“Um, no, not at all. In fact, he hated it.” Kurt smirked slightly and looked down. “He made a list of things he hated about it.” 

“Hmm. Interesting.” 

“ _Nein_ , not really.” Kurt shook his head slightly, until they both cracked a smile. He leaned back against the edge of the desk. 

“I got a new plant!” Ororo announced excitedly. She pointed towards a spindly plant in a Terra Cotta pot on her desk next to her African violets. The plant had several flowers that resembled wiry pink pom-poms, and an assortment of branching tendrils each lined with dozens of small, symmetrically arranged leaves. “It’s a _Mimosa Pudica_.” 

Kurt turned towards the plant to regard it, nodding slightly. “It’s very pretty.” 

“Touch it.” 

Kurt narrowed his eyes and tilted his head in confusion, turning back towards Ororo. She suppressed a quiet laugh. “Go ahead. It don’t bite.” 

“Are you certain? Because some of your plants bite.” 

She laughed and placing her hands on her hips in exasperation. “The Venus Flytrap doesn’t _bite_ , it just…sort of… _shuts_.” she explained, gently closing her fingers into a fist. 

Kurt turned again towards the plant, and very gently ran the very tip of his tail down the length of one of it’s leafy branches. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open as the leaves on the branch folded together in a delicate cascade of motion. 

“It’s _shy_.” Ororo stated confidently. “It reminded me of someone, and I couldn’t resist.” 

Kurt smiled and turned back to her, sighing and crossing his arms in an attempt to appear frustrated. “You’re teasing me with plants, now?” 

Ororo stepped further away from the bed and smiled warmly. “I would never!” She folded an arm across her body to hold the opposite elbow. “Any gardener will tell you that this plant is very special, and highly sought after.” she explained authoritatively, with her head held high. 

She watched him look downward bashfully as his ears darkened and he dropped his arms to his sides and fidgeted his hands back into his pockets. She placed one hand on her hip and beckoned him with the other. “Come here.” 

Quickly, obediently, he took the few steps towards her and ghosted his hands across her bare waist, clasping them behind her back. She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her body fully to his and they kissed again, slowly and deeply. So gradually he probably didn’t even notice, she inched them both backwards until the back of her legs touched the bed frame. By this point he had wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to him, as his tail had snaked it’s way around her ankle. She trailed a fingertip along the side of his neck and around the shell of his ear, pausing rub the pointed tip between her thumb and finger. He broke the kiss by laughing and glancing away briefly before looking back with a slightly embarrassed half-smile. 

“That tickles.” he stated as she laughed. 

“Oh?” she replied, eyes sparkling, and sat down on the bed behind her. He ran his hands affectionately across her shoulders, and didn’t notice when she redirected her attention to the plain brown leather belt in front of her. She glanced up at him for a split-second, before biting her lip and reaching for the buckle, quickly pulling the worn leather through the fastening. 

“ _Bitte_ -” he muttered quietly as he gently grabbed her hand and pulled it away, curling his fingers around hers, “there’s no rush.” 

What was he talking about? There was always a rush. She shook the urge to argue out of her head and sighed heavily, leaning forward to wrap her arms around his midsection and rest the side of her head on his stomach. “I just want to touch you.” she breathed, before gazing upwards to gauge his reaction. 

“Hmm. Well, you _can_ \- just…” He trailed off, struggling to find his words. His tail wrapped around her waist snugly, and he ran his knuckle softly across her shoulder.  

“Oh! This is interesting!” Ororo had let go of Kurt and leaned back suddenly, examining a small object she held with both hands. To Kurt’s horror, it was the condom Scott had given him earlier. 

“Scott made me take that.” Kurt blurted as he stood stiff and mortified with his hands balled into fists at his sides. “He kept talking and talking and wouldn’t stop until I took it, so I said ‘Suit yourself.’ and took it just so he’d stop talking and how did you even find it?” he stammered breathlessly. 

Ororo grinned devilishly at him. She motioned her thumb towards her chest. “Best pickpocket in Cairo.” she stated plainly, with a subtle bow of her head. 

“But I didn’t feel anything…” 

“Notice how I said ‘best’ pickpocket and not ‘most mediocre’ pickpocket?” 

Kurt continued to stare wide-eyed with his mouth a straight line. “Well, you should know if you had picked the other pocket, you would have found Skittles.” he stated, nodding frantically. “-Which we could both enjoy. Not that I wouldn’t- I mean- _Verdammt_.” He cringed at himself and looked desperately around the room. 

Ororo burst into laughter, which continued as Kurt let his shoulders slump in confusion. “Please, Kurt, stop! I am actually teasing you this time.” she assured. He tilted his head and clutched his hands together. Still laughing to herself, she reached into the pocket of her denim vest that she had thrown onto her bed. She fished out the condom that Jean had given her, and held them both up for Kurt’s inspection. The wrapper color and brand logos were different. “See? I mainly just think it’s funny that Scott and Jean can’t agree on a brand.”   

He relaxed with a sigh, shook his head, and smiled. “They really had this whole evening planned out for us, didn’t they?” 

“Are you surprised?” 

“ _Nein_ , of course not.” 

She tossed the two condoms onto her bedside table and pulled her legs up onto the mattress, scooting towards the center of the bed. “Come sit with me!” 

He eagerly complied, quickly moving to kneel in front of her. She moved forward to meet him, cupping each side of his face as they kissed again. She maneuvered herself between his knees, and moved to kiss along his jaw and neck until she paused to simply rest her head on his shoulder, looking up at him while still stroking the other side of his face with her fingertips. He kept his arms wrapped around her in an easy embrace. 

Where should she go from here? The last thing she wanted was to make him uncomfortable- to risk him disappearing again and likely ruining her chances with him forever. But he had shown through word and action that he did want her, wanted the same things she did. How could she sort through layers of guilt and repression? How could she proceed with a man who needed to feel accepted rather than desired? 

She traced the swirling line from one of his scars down the back of his neck and to the collar of his shirt. “Are there many of these?” she asked suddenly, “That I haven’t seen?” 

She can hear him swallow and he nods. “ _Ja_ , you have only seen a small portion of them.” 

“Oh.” She leans back a bit and moves both hands gently down the front of his chest, trying to imagine what’s underneath his shirt. “How far down do they go?” 

“Um…” he replied tentatively, and scoots away from her. He swings one leg out from under him and tugs his pant leg up a few centimeters, revealing a blocky geometric band around his ankle and a round, twisted shape on at the top of his foot. 

“ _Oh _.__ ” she remarked, wincing involuntarily. It sounded as if Jean was going to owe Jubilee some money. 

After several seconds of silence, he glanced over her face to see what was the matter. Upon seeing her grim expression, he must have figured out what she was thinking. His eyes widened and his mouth straightened. “Uh, not _there_.” he quickly blurted, shaking his head. “Because, um… _ouch_?” 

Ororo pressed her hand to her chest and exhaled a sigh of relief without intending to. “Oh, good.” she breathed emphatically. “Goddess, I’m not a man, but…” she trailed off with a cringe. 

He regarded her with an amused half-smile. “You’re funny.” he said warmly, and pulled her into his lap, wrapping his arms and tail around her. As they kissed, she kept her hands pressed flat to his chest, until she gently moved them to the buttons near his collar, undoing them one by one. 

“Is this okay?” she whispered into the corner of his mouth, and he shrugged and quickly nodded. She started undoing buttons with increasing speed, until they were almost halfway undone. When she slipped a hand underneath the shirt, however, all she felt was more cotton. 

“There’s a whole other shirt under here!” she muttered in confusion. 

“Well, yes. I typically wear two shirts. I’m upside down a lot, so it helps me keep decent.” 

“Am I going to find _another_ shirt under this one?” Ororo questioned teasingly. 

“ _Ja_ , sorry. It’s just shirts all the way down, I’m afraid.” Kurt deadpanned. Ororo was not amused. “I can just take them both off if it bothers you so much.”   

“Yes, it does bother me. You should do that.” Ororo replied, and was actually able to look serious for about two seconds. 

He laughed quietly and shook his head as he started untucking both shirts and taking them off. When he actually pulled both shirts over his head, Ororo was struck by a sudden impulse. While his vision was obscured by layers of cumbersome material, she pulled her crop top over head head with ease and tossed it into a darkened corner of her room. 

When he finally pulled his arms out of his sleeves and looked back to her, he froze. She forced herself not to laugh, and instead paused to take in the sight before her. There was almost too much to look at. Layers of lean, corded muscle covered in a sprawling array of intricate, perfectly symmetrical scars. A small, simple metallic crucifix on a silvery chain was the only interruption to the expanse of cobalt skin. 

She moved closer, and reached out to run both hands adoringly down the warm, textured surface of his chest. “You are a beautiful man, Kurt Wagner.” she said in all seriousness, as she caught his gaze again. 

He inhaled slowly and moved a hand to her side, tracing the curve of her rib with his thumb so gently it was almost as if he didn’t believe she was real. “ _Liebling_ , I…” he started before trailing off with his mouth slightly agape, as every language he knew failed him.   

She caught his hand with both of hers, and pressed it flat into the space between her bare breasts. “Please,” she said insistingly, “let’s just do what feels right.” 

******

 “Okay, so the box says seventeen minutes at four hundred…” 

“Oh my God, that’s gonna take FOREVER!” 

Jubilee sighed and rolled her eyes as she adjusted the dials on the oven as Peter raked his hands though his hair in dismay. She started disassembling the packaging of the frozen pepperoni pizza as Peter paced around the kitchen. 

He appeared suddenly at her side, leaning into the counter. He held his hands out and motioned them over the icy pizza. “Okay, so the box says seventeen minutes at four hundred degrees, right? But what I’m thinking-” 

“Nope.” 

“Just hear me out! What if we-” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

“If we set it to, like, _eight_ hundred-” 

“No way, _José _.__ ” 

“It’ll cook twice as fast!” he finally announced, arms held high and a broad grin on his face. 

“Ugh…” Jubilee sighed again. “One- the oven doesn’t go up that high. Two- it would start a _fucking fire_. Three- it would be black on the outside and frozen on the inside!” 

“Oh, that’s fine!” Peter insisted. “If you chew it all up together, it evens out.” 

“Gross.” 

Jubilee turned to walk out of the room, only for Peter to reach out and catch her arm. “Shouldn’t we put the pizza in?” 

“Um, no. The oven’s pre-heating. It’ll be a few minutes.” she explained, and left the room. 

“PRE-heating? Arg!” Peter cried, and slide down the side of the cupboard to sit childishly on the floor. 

Jubilee re-entered the room after a couple of minutes with an envelope in-hand. “Mail call!” she called out gleefully. “Uh, I checked your box, too. You didn’t have anything.” 

Peter shrugged. “Eh. Figures. What you get?” 

Jubilee sat cross-legged beside him and tore open the envelope. Enclosed were a written letter and several photographs. She skimmed over the words and handed the pictures to Peter. “Just a letter from my parents. They went to Arizona for their anniversary.” 

Peter quickly flipped through the photos, each showing smiling, happy faces in front of various landmarks. “Your parents are, like, so fucking cute.” he stated plainly, shaking his head. 

“Ugh, you have no idea. Try living with them.” Jubilee replied, folding her letter back up. “They, like, follow each other around the house. They go to their appointments together, go grocery shopping together, do crosswords together…” she counted things off on her fingers. “For their twentieth anniversary, they took this, like, dream trip to Europe. And then they come back and all the pictures are, like, ‘Dad in front of the Eiffel Tower,’ ‘Mom in front of the Colosseum,’ and so on. They went to a whole other continent and just snapped pictures of each other.”   

“Did your dad get a picture where he makes it look like the Eiffel Tower is his dick?” 

“No, but there is a picture of Mom holding up the Leaning Tower of Pisa!” 

The oven buzzed to indicate that it had reached the programmed temperature, and Jubilee stood to put the pizza in the oven and set the timer. She flopped back down next to Peter and watched him fidget with the pictures. 

“You know, it, like, totally makes sense how you’re not really into dating. Your parents went and set the bar too fucking high.” Peter said suddenly, nodding to himself. 

“Well, they did, but that’s not really-” 

“Cuz I’ve really only ever seen, like, the _opposite_. I think about how ‘Ro said something once about how plants get too close together and choke each other out? I think people are like that. Or at least me and everyone I know.” 

Jubilee paused wordlessly, unsure if she should let him continue. He started speaking again before she could make up her mind. 

“Like, there’s no rhyme or reason for it. Mom was married to this guy, Terry, for, like, three years. He’s Wanda’s dad. Decent guy. And one day I come home from school and he’s got his bags packed by the door and he’s all like,” Peter softened his tone to affect the way a grown man would speak to a child, “’Hey, champ, I’m just gonna go stay at the motel for a few days, until things cool off a little…’ and meanwhile Mom’s in the kitchen yelling,” He changed his voice to a high-strung, screechy one, “’You tell that bastard he can suck his own dick from now on, I’m sick of his shit!’”    

“ _Fuck_.” 

“Yep. And then it was like it never happened. Wanda was, like, two and a half. She doesn’t remember them being together. Mom just woke up that day and was like ‘I can’t live like this.’ and ended it.” Peter picked at a fray in the knee of his jeans. “I mean, I’m kinda like that, too. I can’t stand anything for too long. I used to think it was my mutation. Cuz, like, everything that involves other people just takes forever to happen, and I get sick of it. But really, I think it’s just who I am.” 

Jubilee shrugged, not knowing what else to do. “Well, you’re doing a bang-up job of letting this pizza cook.” 

“Pfft. Like it’s even cooking in there…” Peter moved instantly to position himself on the floor directly in front of the oven, peering in at the pizza through the oven door. “I think the oven is broken.” 

“Ugh. It’s cooking. The cheese is starting to bubble.” Peter glared at her skeptically. “Plus, you tolerate me, even though I make you do things you hate!” she said cheerfully, gesturing towards the oven. 

“Ha, yeah. Though, if we’re being honest, it’s super-annoying to watch you play video games.” he said, not taking his eyes off the oven. She could see his reflection in the glass surface smirking. “It’s worth it, though, because when you lose, you get really mad, and it’s hilarious!”   

She kicked her leg out to shove at his thigh, which he did nothing to avoid. 

“And it makes it easier that you don’t really need me for anything. You don’t need me to make you happy. You’re like your own little neon force of nature, and I just tag along for the ride- at least until you meet some guy who wants to, I dunno, take you to the Drive-In and shit.” 

Jubilee scoffed loudly and kicked him again. “I don’t want some dude dragging me to the Drive-In. _****Fuck****  _the Drive-In.” She tossed her hair and cracked her gum loudly. “ _Fuck_ flowers, _fuck_ first dates, _fuck_ promise rings, and _fuck_  anniversaries.” 

Peter turned slightly away from the oven, awaiting some form of elaboration. Instead, she motioned dramatically at a position further away from the oven. “And back up off that thing, you’re gonna get a sunburn!” He did exactly as told. 

Jubilee picked up one of the photos her parents had sent her, and held it up to Peter. “Okay, now. Tell me what you see here.” 

Peter squinted at the picture. “Uh, kinda paunchy middle-aged Asian dude in front of some rocks?” 

“Alright. Nice try. This is actually the Grand Canyon.” 

“Huh.” 

“Yep. See, my parents met when they were, like, sixteen or seventeen and that was just it. Mom said she never even really _looked_ at a man until she met Dad. They share every part of their lives, and do everything together. The way they take these pictures- that’s how the world is for them. Them looking at each other, and everything else exists in the background.” 

She set the picture back in the pile, and put them all back in the envelope. “Like, I know I kinda sound like an ungrateful bitch here. I mean, I know how good I have it. Especially when I know people like you, and Kurt, and ‘Ro, and Jean, and, like, everyone else here who is severely lacking in the ‘parental role model’ department. I love my parents, I love their relationship, and I love our family. I just…” 

She trailed off, and peeked inside the envelope at the picture once more. “I don’t ever want someone blocking my view of the Grand Canyon.”   

Just then, the buzzer went off, signaling that the pizza was done cooking. Jubilee stood to get the oven mitts and cutting board out of the drawer. As she stepped by Peter, his arm shot up and he grasped her fingers just firmly enough to hold them. She looked down to find him gazing up at her from the floor, eyes wide with sincerity. 

“I promise I’ll never stand in the way of something you want.” he stated, quietly and plainly. 

Touched, she gave his fingers a squeeze and returned a half-smile until he let his hand fall back down. 

Once she had pulled the oven mitts out of the drawer, he crossed his arms and added, “-But if we’re ever in Europe and you don’t take a picture of me posing like the Leaning Tower of Pisa is my cock, then I don’t know if we can be friends anymore…” 

******

“Whoa…okay, I, um…I think that’s enough for tonight.” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I’d say so.” 

Scott and Jean lay panting in Jean’s bed, limbs and clothing strewn about haphazardly. They hadn’t quite planned on it, but they had gotten into a small argument about whether Scott was currently awake, or if he was capable of staying that way. Once Jean had straddled him with the demand of “Prove it!,” the rest was inevitable. 

“Ugh…” Jean groaned as she finally rolled over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I still gotta go take off my makeup. You guys don’t know how good you have it.” 

Scott rolled to his side to watch as she strode naked to her dresser drawers to pull out a simple night shirt. “You could always just not wear any. Try the _au natural_  look.” 

“Oh, I’m sure!” she remarked, pulling the night shirt on over her head and throwing on her bathrobe. She grabbed her basket of toiletries. “I’ll just be a minute!” she called out, and exited her room. 

She returned minutes later to find Scott sitting on the edge of the bed, now wearing his pants and in the process of pulling his socks on. 

“You’re leaving? After I put on my sexiest lingerie for you?” she questioned, motioning one hand down her body. 

He looked over at her and dropped his hands into his lap. “You mean your _Fraggle Rock_  nightshirt?” 

“Obviously!” 

Scott smiled, and then looked away and sighed. “I’m really tired. I wanna go to bed.” 

Jean set down her basket and hung up her bathrobe. She walked over to the side of the bed opposite to him and clamored over it, stretching across it and kicking up her feet. She smoothed her hand over her bedspread. “Well, isn’t this convenient, then!” 

He slumped his shoulders and looked down at her with amused disapproval. 

“It’s already warm!” she added with a smile. She reached up to trail a hand down his bare back. “Yours is cold and far away.” 

“I can’t stay the night.” 

“The night’s already over. At this point, technically, you’d be staying the morning.” she argued. He remained undeterred. “Well, why not?” she demanded with a huff. 

“Well, don’t you think we should, I dunno, keep up appearances?” 

“Ha!” she laughed sharply, rolling onto her back. “The appearance of __what__ , exactly? That we’re not consenting adults? That we should be ashamed of what we do?” 

“No, but-” 

“We’re not students anymore. Just because we live here doesn’t mean we can’t live our own lives.” 

Scott sighed, defeated. “You’re right. It just feels weird.” 

Jean pulled his hand off his lap and hugged it to her. “Yeah, maybe at first. But it’s gotta be expected. To hear Raven tell it, being an X-Man has _always_ involved a certain amount of, um, ‘wild mutant sex.’” 

Scott scoffed and shook his head. “Your Sex Ed class was _sooo_ different from ours…” 

Jean laughed and quickly sat up, moving towards the head of the bed and wiggling under the covers. She looked at Scott expectantly, patting the space next to her. He grinned despite himself and reached for the covers. 

“Wait! You gotta lose the pants. No one sleeps in denim.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

When they determined he was appropriately dressed, he joined her under the covers and they moved to position themselves in an easy, comfortable embrace. She turned out the light with a thought and a wave of her hand, and he kissed the top of her head. 

“Goodnight, hon.” 

“Goodnight, Jean.” 

******

 “Ah! Oh, I missed this at the Drive-In.” 

Ororo sighed and wrapped her fingers around the end of Kurt’s tail, right at the part where the spade began. They were stretched out together on her bed, having spent the last half-hour kissing, touching, and essentially -as Ororo suggested- doing what _felt right_. Once it had sunk into his head that she hadn’t taken her top off because she was _warm_ , it was like a switch was flicked on in his brain, and he resolved to touch her as much as possible- holding her body to his and wrapping himself around her. Somewhat begrudgingly, she had kept her attention directed ‘above the belt,’ but that didn’t mean that things were strictly PG. As it stood, she had captured the end of his tail just as it had traced a line up her side and around the curve of her breast, pausing to rub smoothly over the nipple. 

“Hmm. Me, too.” he replied lowly, letting his hand linger on her thigh. 

She pulled back from him a few inches and examined the unique limb in her grip, turning it over and running her fingers over it’s surface gently. He watched her with patience as she poured over every detail. After several seconds, his steady gaze caught her eye and she stilled and searched his expression. 

“Is this okay?” she eventually asked. 

“Of course it is.” he replied quickly, with an easy smile. 

“Just… _before_ …I know I made you uncomfortable.” 

“Well, yes, but- that was more about the _idea_ of it, I think. It didn’t feel bad.” Kurt said after some consideration. “If anything, it felt good. So much so that I was embarrassed.” 

“Oh?” She smirked as she rubbed her thumb along the edge of the spade and over the tip. It’s smooth and soft and surprisingly pliable. “So it must be sensitive, then…” 

“Yes, very.” 

“And it feels good?” 

“Depends on who’s touching it and how.” He glanced away, and smoothed out the material of her skirt. “If the person touching it is gentle, then it’s nice. I don’t like it to be bent, scratched, bitten, struck, burned, or stomped on.” 

She gasped, and clutched his tail almost protectively to her chest. “Goddess, I would imagine!” 

He smiled at her warmly. “ _Du bist ein Schatz_.” She smiled back, and finally relinquished her grip on him. He moved his tail away, moving it down to trace around her kneecap, which had become exposed due to the slit up her skirt. 

“It’s hard to describe. Mainly it just feels- I mean it’s not like, um…” He cringed to himself and she raised an eyebrow at him. “It’s just nice. It’s soothing. It’s like when someone runs their fingers thorough your hair. Like you could relax and go to sleep. It’s like that.” 

“Oh.” Ororo furrowed her brow. “I don’t know what that’s like. No one’s done that to me.” 

Kurt’s eyes widened. “Well, we need to change that.” 

“I’m sure it’s not a big deal.” 

“It really is.” He moved to sit up, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Just put your head on my knee.” he instructed, patting said knee. She briefly considered protesting, but instead rolled her eyes and did as told. 

As soon as she was in position, laying on her side with her head on his leg, she felt him move his hand to the side of her head, with two fingers nestled in her Mohawk and his thumb at the crest of her ear. Once he started to rake his dull nails through her hair and over her scalp, she essentially melted. He moved slowly over her head, alternating between the pad of his fingers and his claw-like nails, moving from her forehead to the back of her neck and then back again. She felt so relaxed, so at ease, that she could feel her breathing slow down and her eyelids become heavy. It was dark, he was warm, the sound of his breathing was steady, it was getting late, and- 

“Okay, you can stop now!” she announced suddenly, and he jerked his hand away. 

“Sorry?” 

She sat up and took his hand in hers. “Oh, no! I really did like it. But it’s like you said. If you keep going, I’ll fall asleep.” He breathed a sigh of relief. “And I already have a bad habit of falling asleep on you, so…” 

“I really wouldn’t mind.” he insisted. “I think it’s cute.” 

Ororo gasped and put her hand to her chest, trying to don a scandalized expression. “But what would people say if they knew we slept together on the first date?” 

Kurt scoffed and jerked his thumb towards the two condoms that still sat on Ororo’s bedside table. “Knowing our friends, probably ‘Congratulations!’” 

“Ha! True. I might even get a high-five from Jubilee.” Ororo pointed out with a grin, causing Kurt to shake his head with a quiet laugh. “But the real reason I don’t want to sleep is because I’m not done with you, yet.” 

With that, she swung her leg over his, moving to straddle him and push him down to the bed. She bent down to kiss him and he responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around her, clutching her to his chest, and twisting his tail around her thigh. When he propped himself up on his elbow to kiss her neck, she sat up and pulled him up with her. She ran her hands across and down his back while he worked his way down past her collarbone, noting absently that his spine was considerably knobbier than most. 

“Ah…yes,” she gasped with her head tipped back as he cupped one breast gently while tracing around the nipple with his dull thumbnail. She could swear she heard him laugh as he pulled her closer and continued to kiss lower. 

She practically yelped in surprise at a sudden ticking sensation at her thigh, and she realized a split-second later that he must have absentmindedly let the tip of his tail creep under the elastic of her underwear. He realized this at almost the same time, and didn’t seem to find it as amusing as she did. 

He pulled his hand away from her chest and managed to blurt “Oh, _Gott_ , I’m sor-” before she could interrupt him.   

“No, don’t say it! I’ve had enough apologies from you.” she stated authoritatively as she caught his hand before he could reign in his tail. She held it, and brought it to her face to kiss across his knuckles. She stared into his eyes to say, “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to. But I need you to stop being sorry.” 

She watched something unreadable shift in his expression, and he sat forward to kiss her a few more times, quick and sweet, before he moved to grip her shoulders. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he pulled them both down to lay on their sides. His eyes move over her face, gauging her reaction, before propping himself up on his elbow to lean over her, caressing her face and neck with his free hand and kissing her slowly and deeply. She let out a contented hum as she relaxed back into the bed, sprawling her hands over his back and into his hair. 

She gasped again when she felt his tail coil around her thigh, firm and strong- and wondered if she’d ever get used to it. She bent her knee, with her skirt falling by the wayside, and kissed him back harder. He pulled back from her and glanced over her face again, and after a second’s hesitation, she can feel the very tip of his tail slide under and hook around her underwear at the hip, and then it’s all she can do to re-position herself so he can throw them across the room. 

He brought his tail back to trace ticklishly up her inner thigh and moving higher. Her body buzzed with an unfocused anticipation, and she had to keep forcing herself not to laugh or grin like an idiot out of almost-childlike giddiness. He ducks his head down to kiss around her ear and neck, but out of the corner of her eye she can see him watching her, evaluating her reaction. When he finally, _finally_ , moves the smooth, supple tip of his tail through soft, short hair and already-slick folds, she inhales sharply and practically lifts off the bed. 

“Is this okay?” he whispered into her ear, almost imperceptibly quiet. 

“Yes, _yes_ \- please, just don’t stop!”    

He continued to stroke her with increased confidence. His touch was firm, but delicate and soft at the same time- not rough or callused like most men’s hands would be. When he moved over her clit with a flicking motion, she moaned and arched into the sensation, digging her nails into his bicep. He must have been paying attention, because he quickly did it again and again. She let her eyes slip closed, needing his touch so badly she was practically shivering. She’s not exactly inexperienced, but it had just _been so long_ , and this was so unlike anything she had ever encountered. She briefly wondered if this was like anything ever encountered by any other woman on the planet.      

The more she writhed, the bolder he got. She was starting to believe that his tail did, in fact, have a mind of it’s own as it worked tirelessly and intuitively to please her. It had started rubbing her in a steady, circular motion, which caused her to throw her head back and reach back to grasp at her bed covers. He took the opportunity to kiss at her exposed throat and run his hand down her body with his fingers splayed, almost as if he were mapping her out. Out of her otherwise lust-clouded mind, the word ‘More’ leaped to the forefront, and before she even completely realized what she was doing, she moved her hand over the back of his, entwining their fingers and moving his hand further down her abdomen. He easily permitted this until she had him mere centimeters from where she wanted him, when he stiffened and stopped moving altogether. 

“You’re sure?” he asked shakily. The apprehension in his voice was palpable. 

The frustration she felt from the halt in activity dissipated when she looked into his face. He stared down at her with those amber eyes wide with earnest concern. She reached up with both hands to grab the back if his head, twisting her fingers into his hair and pulling his mouth to hers. She kissed him has hard and as deeply as possible, thrusting her tongue into his mouth to capture and suck on his. She needed him to know how much she _was_ sure, even if she couldn’t find the words. How much she wanted him _inside_ her, wanted anything and everything he could give her. 

She broke the kiss after she felt the tension leave him, and pressed her forehead to his. “ _Yes_ ,” she breathed emphatically. “Touch me.”   

She let go of his head and let herself fall back onto the mattress, and put her hand back on his. He exhaled slowly and bit his lip, and finally allowed her to move his hand where she wanted it. His thick, callused fingers touched her as gently and tentatively as was possible, as his eyes scanned her expression and body for any sign of tension or discomfort. By this time she was throbbing, hypersensitive, and almost sopping wet- she was in no mood to be teased. She pressed his hand further down while angling her body to allow one thick digit to slip inside. She arched her back with a low groan as she urged him deeper and looked up at him to find him wide-eyed with his mouth hung open, awed by how she actually _felt_.    

As with almost everything, he proved to be a fast learner, and they quickly found a rhythm that left her gasping. When he started using his tail again, she moaned so loudly she shocked even herself. Everything got lost in incredible, unique, indescribable sensations-the way he was touching her, her nails dug into his shoulders, her electrified skin, his hot breath on her neck. Her hoarse breathing and moans were punctuated by muttered encouragements she hoped were English or at least words. He never let up, even as it ended- she cried out as her orgasm did to her body what her powers of thunder and lightening do to the night sky. 

They lay together in peaceful silence for a short time afterwards- her sprawled out on her back, him on his side with his head on his arm, free hand tracing over her abdomen with his knuckles. The sound of her catching her breath was mixed with the easy breeze through her window and the soft whisper of a likely-unforecasted burst of rain. Her eyes snapped open at the sudden creak of bed springs, and she craned her neck to see Kurt roll and hop of the bed in one motion and quickly move to her large open window to close it. 

“Your, uh…” Kurt explained as he shuffled the pillows of her window seat, “It’s raining pretty hard, and your window seat was getting wet.” 

“Oops! Sorry about that!” she replied, rolling onto her stomach to look over at him. 

He set his hand on his hip, observing the rain now splattering on her window panes with an amused half-smile. “Oh, so this is you, then?” She nodded, looking mildly embarrassed. He tilted his head and quietly added, “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” 

She smirked and raised an eyebrow, resting her chin on her crossed forearms. “I’ll give you three guesses.” 

He returned to the bed in a few steps and climbed back in, gathering her up in his arms and hugging her to his chest, with the side of his face against the top of her head. 

“You are amazing.” he spoke adoringly into her hair. 

“Me?!” she replied incredulously with a broad grin. She could feel him nod slightly. 

“Hmm-mm.” 

She scoffed a little but, bound by his embrace, could not do much else. The rain slowly tapered off as he lazily rubbed her back. She pressed herself closer to him and ran her knee up his thigh, eager to ‘return the favor,’ so to speak. She swore she could hear a suppressed laugh from within his chest, and he kissed the top of her head and released her, pulling back to look at her face. 

He curled his fingers under her jaw and kissed her once more. “I should probably head back now. It’s late.” 

No, not yet. She moved her hands to grip his shoulders. “Well, I think you should stay a little longer.” she stated, and then leaned to his ear while trailing her fingertips across his hips at the waistband of his pants, “I think... that if you stayed even just a little while longer, that you would be glad that you did.” 

He grinned and looked away briefly. “I would love to, but I have to go water my spider plant.” 

“Oh! Well, why didn’t you say so? Don’t let me keep you.” 

They both laughed as they sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. He quickly pulled his T-shirt back on and bundled his button-up shirt into the crook of his arm. She wrapped her arms around his neck to kiss him good night. 

“Perhaps another time, then?” she asked, somewhat regretfully. 

“Another time, I’m sure.” he replied, gently tracing the curve of her spine as he hugged her goodbye. “ _Auf Wiedersehen _.”__ he added, and then dissolved out of her arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is from the chorus of Rod Stewart's 1981 song "Young Turks." It's just a really sweet song.  
> Note: the guy from the Police Academy movie that Kurt is talking about could be either Michael Winslow, an actor renowned for his ability make make a wide range of sound effect noises, or Bobcat Goldthwait, an actor/comedian/director who has an, um, 'unique' speaking voice. Seriously- in a world where mutants are real, both these guys would probably be mutants.
> 
> RIP to anyone who thought our good Catholic boy was gonna whip it out on the first date.
> 
> Next chapter will be a return to my usual "standing around and talking in the locker room" form.


	28. Meeting in the Ladies Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If something interesting happens at the X-mansion, and nobody talks about it in the locker room, did it even really happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a breather after the last two chapters. Just some friendly (although not exactly PG-rated) discussion.

“Well, _someone’s_ chipper this morning!” 

“Oh? Is it that obvious?” 

Ororo grinned at Jean’s reflection in the mirror, before returning to her previous activity of working hair gel into her Mohawk and humming to herself. She squealed and jumped when Jubilee removed the damp towel from her hair, spun it, and snapped it in Ororo’s direction, resulting in them both laughing. 

The girls had just stepped out of the showers and started getting ready for the first Conflict Deescalation seminar class. Jean shook her head at her friend’s hijinks as she combed her damp hair. 

“Okay. I’ll bite. How was your date last night, ‘Ro?” Jubilee finally said after she grew tired of teasing Ororo. 

Ororo sighed wistfully. “Better than I could have imagined.” 

“That settles it. We need details. And possibly some diagrams.” Jubilee stated while applying toothpaste to her toothbrush. 

“Alright! Well…” Ororo moved to lean against the counter next to the sink. “Oh! Before I get too in-depth, have either of you ever been with a man with a tail before?” 

“Seriously?” Jean deadpanned. 

“I just don’t want to bore you with redundant information.” 

Jean and Jubilee stared at Ororo incredulously, with Jean crossing her arms and Jubilee tapping her foot with her toothbrush hanging out of her mouth. 

Ororo sighed. “Okay, point taken. So, you know how, usually, when a man starts touching a woman intimately, his hands are so rough and callused and clumsy, it’s like letting a water buffalo use a typewriter?” 

Jean let her mouth hang open while making an “Uuuuh…” sound, while Jubilee shrugged and nodded while brushing her teeth. “Yeah, that’s pretty accurate.” Jean finally agreed. 

“Well, this was essentially the _opposite_ of that. He’s-” Ororo paused and sighed again while considering how best to word how she spent last evening. “His tail is strong and firm, but also soft and smooth and supple. It kind of feels like an ear.” 

“Oh, gross.” Jean breathed. 

“Whatever. You’re just jealous.” Jubilee replied, sticking her tongue out at Jean. 

“It’s not gross! It’s amazing!” Ororo defended. “It was just incredible-like nothing I’ve ever felt. I would almost hesitate to pursue a man _without_ a tail now.” Jean gave a small shrug and started braiding her hair. “Although it has to be said that he is also very good with his hands.” 

“Oh shit!” Jubilee exclaimed, immediately after spitting out her mouthwash. “You guys went all out! I’m actually super impressed!”     

Ororo smiled and nodded in acknowledgement. Jean crossed her arms and looked at her skeptically. “Okay, ‘Ro- as your friend, I have to ask, what with the claws and all- Is your vag still in one piece, or is it kinda like raw hamburger now?” 

Ororo chose to take the high ground and nodded towards Jean politely. “It’s never been better, Jean. I told you I knew he was very gentle. It was silly of you to worry.” 

“Okay, so, We’re all, like, super psyched that you finally got your rocks off after almost two years of living in a country that you were led to believe was a twenty-four-seven fuck-fest…” Jubilee started, and sat down on the bench in front of Ororo. “But we’re gonna need some details about what went down when you, you know,‘returned the favor’.” 

“Oh. Well, we didn’t do anything like that. I offered a few times, but he declined. I think he’s still shy in this respect.” 

“Huh. Most guy’s lives are just one big continual quest to find someone willing to touch their junk.” Jubilee appeared slightly confused as she parted her hair into her customary pigtails. 

“Nah, this actually makes perfect sense.” Jean interjected. She pulled her outfit of the day out of her gym bag. “Kurt, like, _fucking loves_  to be _of use_  to people.” 

“Well, he is a good worker. He’s always on top of getting his chores and assignments done.” Jubilee mentioned as she pulled on her neon green tank top. 

“Well, yeah, but I think it goes a bit deeper than that.” Jean elaborated. “I think it has more to do with how people with very physical mutations are never really accepted into a group so much as they are tolerated for as long as they prove useful. Like, Kurt told me when he first got here that he stopped being useful to his brother _once_ , and his brother literally sold him the same day. Feeling like he has a purpose is a huge part of whether he feels secure in a relationship.” 

“Oh, Goddess, he never told me that.” Ororo muttered in a hushed, concerned tone. “I don’t want to _exploit_ him!”     

“Oh, no! You’re not!” Jean explained hurriedly, holding her hands out to calm Ororo. “This is what he likes. Just stay the course and he’ll come around eventually. That is, if you even want to be in a relationship.” 

“Hmm. I’m not even completely sure what I want. I’ve dated some, but I’ve never been in the type of long-term arrangement that you and Scott have.” Ororo looked down with her finger on her chin. 

“Well, Kurt’d probably be a good boyfriend. Probably get you flowers and shit.” Jubilee pointed out as she fastened her pink overall-shorts. 

“Ugh. The last thing I need in my life is more flowers.” Ororo groaned. 

“Having a boyfriend is great. It’s like a whole other person to hang out with and depend on, but who also meets your sexual needs. Plus you get an infinite supply of cozy boy sweaters.” Jean added. 

Ororo nodded thoughtfully. “I do love a good sweater.” 

“Plus, if you play your cards right, you can spend the rest of your adult life explaining to people ‘My last name is _actually_ pronounced Munroe- _VAUG_ ner.’” Jean said with a smirk as she pulled her dress on over her head. 

“Oh, please. I would never hyphenate.” 

Jubilee snapped her fingers and pointed at Ororo. “How about a distant future where you’re surrounded by a healthy crop of weird-looking grand-kids, regaling them about how when Grandma met Grandpa, all she wanted was a piece of ass, but what she got was a piece…” Jubilee paused to press her hand to her chest. “of _heart_.” 

“Ha ha.” Ororo said flatly. “And if I did have grandchildren, they would call me ‘ _Bibi_ ,’ so…” she trailed off with a shrug. 

Jean stood to fasten the belt of her floral, summery dress. “So, again- congrats, ‘Ro, on getting to third base. We’re all very happy for you, and we look forward to a summer of torrential rain and flash flooding.” Ororo laughed and shook her head. “I would like to say that I also had a very good night. In fact-” 

“Damn straight you did! I crossed paths with Scott doing the walk of shame when I was headed back to my room this morning!” Jubilee interrupted. 

“Well, you must have had a good night, too, if you were doing your own walk of shame.” Ororo pointed out with a smile. 

“Oh, I don’t call it a ‘walk of shame.’ I call it a walk of ‘Yay, I had sex!’” Jubilee replied, tugging on the straps of her overalls. “It’s only a walk of shame if the sex was bad!” 

“Then Scott wasn’t doing a walk of shame, either!” Jean argued. 

“Pfft! If the sex was that good, then why did he leave me hangin’ when I went for a high-five!?” Jubilee cried. “He straight-up _refused_ to hit me up high-” She held her palm up near her head. “or down low!” She finished by moving her palm down near her thigh. 

Jean sighed wearily. “Ugh, there are about a million reasons why someone wouldn’t want to high-five you.” Jubilee stuck her tongue out at her. “And we DID have a great night. We had a ‘’Ro owes me ten bucks’ type of night.” 

“AH! Yes!” Ororo squealed, shaking her fists in excitement. “So THAT’S why you two never left the vehicle for the entire stay at the Drive-In!” 

“Yep!” Jean confirmed with a smug grin. 

“Sooo…” Jubilee pressed, “How was it?” 

“ ** _ ** _Fucking amazing_**_**.” Jean tipped her head back for emphasis. “And, like, sucking a dick can be enjoyable if you don’t get shot in the eye.” 

“Well, I’m glad you finally got _that_ sorted out.” Ororo said with a pleasant nod.   

Jean laughed at her own expense, and then added “What’s hilarious, though, is that when I asked Scott about how he got all these _new-found skills_ , he said that Peter gave him and Kurt, like, a whole lecture about it!” Jean paused, holding her hands out to demonstrate her bewilderment. “Like, seriously! Peter did! _Our_ Peter!” 

“ _My_ Peter.” Jubilee corrected quietly. 

Ororo laughed before nodding with her knuckle on her chin. “That explains so much! Kurt definitely seemed to know things I would have otherwise not expected him to know.” 

Jubilee gave a sharp, smug laugh and inspected her florescent yellow nail polish. “What can I say? The man has a gift.” 

Ororo crossed her arms and tipped her head towards Jubilee. “And what did you and this gifted man do last night while we were out?” She made a face and added, “I mean, _after_ what Jean said you were doing when we left…” 

“Oh, right!” Jubilee nodded in recollection, and then gave Jean a pointed look. “Excuse _you_ , by the way.” 

Jean held her hands up, as if to surrender. 

“But anyway, we just played some video games and cooked a frozen pizza.” Jubilee answered with a toss of her hair. 

Ororo grinned and opened her mouth, but was cut off by Jubilee before she could make a sound. 

“And if you say one thing about that constituting a date, or ask if we had fun on our date, or use the word ‘date’ in any way, then I am cutting you off from the Porno Stash.” 

Ororo scoffed, and crossed her arms and held her chin higher. “Well, I _was_ going to wait to tell you this, but since you had to be rude, you should know that you owe Jean five dollars.” 

“What!? Again? Why?” Jubilee whined. 

“I am getting, like, _soo_ rich from these bets, you guys.” Jean said with a broad grin. 

“It’s about the markings he has. He was explaining where he has them, and must have noted my concern, because he made a point of assuring me that he doesn’t have any, um, _there_.” Ororo explained carefully. 

“Oh, bummer.” Jubilee said with mild disappointment. 

Ororo narrowed her eyes and reeled back in shock and confusion. “ _What the fuck_  is wrong with you?” Jean whispered harshly. 

“What!?” Jubilee snapped. “I was just hoping it would be, like, ribbed for her pleasure or something like that.” 

“Ugh!” Ororo tossed her head back in aggravation and started buttoning up her sleeveless shirt.   

“By the way, ‘Ro…” Jean started, if only to change the subject, “What was that ‘secret weapon’ of yours? Did it work?” 

“Oh! That! Yes, I think it did work to some extent.” Ororo finished tucking her shirt into her black cutoff shorts and nodded thoughtfully. “It was a new plant I found. A _Mimosa_   _Pudica _,__ also called a ‘Shy Plant.’ It’s leaves fold closed when touched, it’s quite remarkable.” she explained academically to her confused teammates. “I think it went a long way towards showing him that I appreciate his unique yet bashful nature.” 

Jean stared back blankly. “God damn you’re weird.” 

Jubilee raised an eyebrow and scoffed. “Huh. The seductive power of house plants.” She crossed her arms. “Cuz, I’ve often thought ‘What a magnificent _Aloe Vera_. I can’t wait to fuck whoever owns it.’” she added flatly. 

“Then you should raise your standards. Anyone can grow an _Aloe Vera_.” Ororo replied with annoyance. 

“Why not just be like ‘Hey, I’ll give you this _Ficus_ if you let me suck your dick?’” Jubilee added with a devilish smirk. 

Ororo opened her mouth to form a rebuttal, but was interrupted by Jean. “Really, ‘Ro, judging by how your evening _actually went_ , I’d say those pussy plants of yours had a bit more of an impact.”   

“JEAN. Those are ORCHIDS!” Ororo snapped, with her hands balled into fists. Jean and Jubilee burst into laughter. 

The laughter eventually died down and they finished getting dressed. While packing her toiletries away, Jubilee smirked to herself and called out ‘Hey Jean!” with an impish grin. 

“Yeah?” 

“I just realized that you’re the only one who’s man doesn’t have some kinda awesome mutant sex ability!” 

Jean huffed in annoyance and looked down into her gym bag for a second, but then looked back up with a smug expression. “Actually, Scott follows instructions and works hard. Among men, that _is_ a superpower.” 

“You’re absolutely right!” Ororo agreed with a laugh. 

“Besides!” Jean added with a raised eyebrow, “Scott may not have a mutant sex ability, but it turns out that I do!” 

The other two girls immediately moved closer to Jean, giving her their undivided attention. Jean went on to explain, in a very self-satisfied tone and in incredible detail, how she had managed to somehow project the sensation of her climax into Scott’s head. 

Ororo leaned back and nodded, clearly impressed. Jubilee shook her head and frowned. “Well, that’s just…That’s just fuckin’ great.” she grumbled sarcastically. 

“Uh, excuse me?” Jean pressed. 

“With guys, if you try anything new _sexually_ , and they _like it_ , they start to expect it _every single time_.” Jubilee stated sternly. 

“Well, I don’t think I can do that. I honestly have no idea how I did it the first time.” Jean stammered as she became concerned. 

Jubilee threw her hands up in exasperation, letting them flop back into her lap. “You broke him. He’s ruined.” 

Jean furrowed her brow and stared downwards in silence. Ororo reached out and jostled Jean’s shoulder. “Now, now. Let’s not be too hasty! I’m sure the situation is not that dire.” Jean turned to her tentatively. Ororo continued. “Besides, I’m sure this is just another skill you could improve with practice.” 

Jean shrugged and struggled to get her thoughts together. “I mean, it’s possible, but practice might be difficult. I’d _really_ have to concentrate on making sure I project just to Scott, and not to everyone in a certain area…” 

Ororo nodded and patted Jean’s shoulder supportively. Jubilee’s mouth hung open. “Uh…you mean that’s an option?” 

Jean shrugged and nodded. 

“Then you need to practice THAT and only THAT! Forget all your other skills! This is what’s important now!” Jubilee demanded intensely, pointing at Jean. “Could you fucking imagine if, like, every time you came, you, like, dropped an orgasm bomb?” 

“Oh, come on!” Jean pleaded, her head tipped back in frustration. 

“Yeah, that’s the spirit!” Jubilee grinned, causing Jean to roll her eyes. 

“It would be interesting.” Ororo said thoughtfully. “I can imagine getting a random climax while folding laundry and thinking ‘Thanks, Jean! This was the little pick-me-up I needed to get me through my chores!’” Jean smirked and laughed, finally seeing the humor in the situation. 

“Ha ha! Yes!” Jubilee exclaimed excitedly. “Meanwhile, Scott’s sitting in the kitchen, eating a bowl of soup, thinking ‘What the fuck, Jean?’” 

Jubilee squealed and was just barely able to dodge the wet towel that Jean telekinetically threw at her. 

******

In the boy’s locker room, Scott and Kurt stood in adjacent mirrors styling their hair and idly chatting. Scott combed his carefully while Kurt raked his into place with his hands. They each laughed and shook their heads as the door to the locker room opened and shut in a flurry, a gust of air turbulence moved over them, and the sound of water blasting and aggressive splashing was heard from the showers. 

“’Sup, dudes!” Peter called out seconds later, now standing sopping wet in the middle of the locker room with a tentative grip on a towel around his waist. 

“Running late?” Scott asked with a laugh. 

“I might have overslept.” Peter replied with a shrug. He walked over to the counter and shoved his way between Kurt and Scott so he could start brushing his teeth. He gave Kurt a slight shoulder-bump and caught his gaze in the mirror. “So, like, how did your first big American date go?” he mumbled around a mouthful of toothpaste foam. 

Kurt shrugged and moved away from the counter and back to the bench. “Good, I think.” he answered plainly. 

“’Ro invited him back up to her room after we all got home.” Scott elaborated to Peter with a raised eyebrow. Peter grinned around his toothbrush. Kurt stared down into his gym bag silently. Scott redirected his attention to Kurt. “How’d _that_ go, by the way?” 

“Oh, you know. Good, I think.” Kurt reiterated as he sifted through his bag and applied some deodorant. Scott crossed his arms and stared, awaiting elaboration. Peter also stared, toothbrush dangling. “It was a nice evening. She got a new plant, which she wanted me to see. We talked. Hung out for a bit. I think…” He pulled a shirt and a belt out of his bag and paused, holding the items on his lap and furrowing his brow. “I think she actually likes me.” 

Scott let his head thump back audibly against the tile wall and ran his hands wearily own the sides of his face. “Oh…Kay. That’s nice.” 

“Yeah, but what else?” Peter pressed, and then immediately ducked his head to take a drink from the tap. 

“Like I said. We talked and hung out.” Kurt repeated with a shrug while fastening his belt. 

“Yeah.” Peter repeated, slowly and firmly. “And what else?” 

Kurt scoffed and looked back into his gym bag. “Anything else is none of your business.” 

Peter moved to instantly sit besides Kurt on the bench, sprinkling Kurt with water droplets cast off from his still-wet hair. “Okay, bro, so I’m gonna need, like, ALL the details…” Peter explained eagerly. Kurt stared back, silent and stone-faced. Peter gave him a friendly shoulder-shake. “C’mon, man! This is a locker room! There are no secrets here!” 

“I wish there were a few.” Kurt stated, his exasperation palpable. 

“Peter, leave him alone. If he wanted you to know something, he’d tell you.” Scott pleaded as he buttoned up his striped shirt. 

“Hmm. Okay. How about we do this a different way…” Peter mumbled, tapping his chin. “How about I just ask simple yes-or-no questions, and you just answer yes or no. Hell, you can even blink once for yes, and twice for super-yes if you want, I don’t give a fuck.” 

Kurt narrowed his eyes at Peter for several seconds, before finally looking away with a huff. “Fine. But only a couple.” 

Peter practically buzzed with excitement, drumming his fists on his damp terrycoth-clad thighs as his wracked his brain for the perfect question. In the background, Scott sighed and leaned back against the wall, arms crossed. 

“Alright, so- first question. Here goes…” Peter started, holding his hands out. “Did you contribute- in any way- to that ten-minute rainstorm we had at about two in the morning?” 

Kurt’s eyes widened and he looked away briefly, before turning back to Peter and shrugging slightly. “ _Ja_.” 

“WHOA! Shit yeah! Fuckin’ knew it!” Peter exclaimed, punching the air. Scott let his arms drop to his sides in confusion. Kurt shook his head and pulled on a plain white undershirt. 

“Okay, so- next question. Possibly last question.” Peter began again, tapping Kurt on the shoulder to regain his attention. Kurt turned to him and waited patiently, hands folding in his lap. “So, on a scale of one to ten- with one being ‘not even a little bit’ and ten being ‘all up in there’- how _involved_ was your tail in that process?”    

Kurt sighed and let his head tip back in frustration, before righting himself and muttering “Nine.” 

Peter’s shoulders slumped. “No? Not at all? That’s disappointing.” 

“No. Nine.” 

“Yeah, you said. Seems kinda like a waste of resources to me.” 

“ _Ja_. That’s why nine.” 

“So, like, maybe next time, then?” 

“ _Nein_ , probably same as last time.” 

“I’m so confused, you guys.” Scott interjected, unheard. 

“I just, I dunno, was expecting at least a three…” 

“Well, maybe it wasn’t a nine so much as an eight and a half…” Kurt corrected, scratching his chin. 

Peter’s mouth gaped open as he froze with shock and excitement, his hands balled into fists. Kurt sighed, _again_ , and went back to sorting through his gym bag. 

“Guys, what the fuck is going on?” Scott demanded as he walked closer to his teammates. “I don’t like being left out of the loop, guys. Come on!” 

Kurt busied himself with the contents of his gym bag, trying to hide the fact that his face and ears had gone completely purple. “It’s not that interesting, really. Not really worth talking about any further.” 

“Oh, shit- that’s right, dude. Some of this stuff I only know cuz Jubes told me. I’ll fill you in.” Peter offered to Scott, patting the spot next to him on the bench. 

“I don’t see how that’s necessary.” Kurt muttered quietly, as Scott eagerly took his place next to Peter. 

“It’s cool, bro. Don’t worry. I’ll be all discrete and shit…” Peter attempted to calm him. Kurt crossed his arms and looked away sternly as Peter scooted closer to Scott and cupped his hand around Scott’s ear. Scott’s expression shifted from vaguely interested to grinning to shocked giggling as Peter (through a combination of words and elaborate hand-motions) explained the significance of the rainstorm and the tail-numbers system. 

“ _Holy shit_ , dude. Nice job!” Scott said enthusiastically, slapping Kurt on the back. Kurt nodded stiffly and waved him away.   

“So, like, did she, you know, return the favor, or…” Peter questioned tentatively. 

“You said your last question was the last question.” Kurt stated. Peter shrugged and leaned in closer, still awaiting an answer. Kurt shook his head and pulled on his shirt. “She did offer, but, you know, it wasn’t really necessary so…” 

Peter and Scott exchanged bewildered glances. “ _Chocolate chip cookies_  aren’t necessary, but _God damn_  am I glad I live in a world where they exist.” Scott said with a nod. 

“Well, _ja_ , but it was getting late, so…” Kurt tried to elaborate. 

“A handjob takes, like, two minutes, dude. I guarantee you that time was not a factor here.” Peter stated plainly. 

Kurt scoffed and pushed himself abruptly up off the bench, pacing and raking his hand through his hair, tail lashing wildly behind him. “But what if she thinks I’m disgusting? It’s not worth the risk! I-” 

“ _Jesus Christ_ , this shit again?!” Scott groaned loudly, standing up from the bench and moving to grab Kurt by the shoulders to stop his pacing. “If she thought you were gross, she wouldn’t have let you in her fucking pants!” 

“She was wearing a skirt.” Kurt mumbled quietly, completely still except for the irregular twitch of his tail. 

“I find that taking a shower helps with the whole ‘being gross’ thing.” Peter offered helpfully. 

“My point is that girls have super-high standards about that sort of thing. You passed the fucking test. You got a green light. All signs point to yes.” 

Kurt gently removed Scott’s hands from his shoulders before crossing his own arms. “Scott, when Ororo was a girl, and her powers first manifested, she _ended a drought_ , saved an _entire village_ , and was actually regarded as a _divine being_  for several years. Meanwhile, when _I_ was younger, people used to pay to let their children poke me with a stick through the bars of a cage.” 

“What?! I thought you said you were some kinda acrobat?” Peter called out in disbelief. 

“Oh, I was. Until one day, I wasn’t.” 

Scott looked down and sighed heavily, before placing a hand on Kurt’s back, trying to corral him back towards the bench. “Look, I’m not even going to pretend like I can understand all the weird, traumatic shit you’ve been through, that you almost certainly need therapy for…” 

Kurt passively allowed himself to be led to the bench, sitting and facing Scott as he continued. “But, I’m going to tell you that this feeling of ‘Oh, crap- the girl I’m with is way out of my league!’ is actually perfectly normal. Like, for example- it’s obvious to _anybody_ that Jean is, like, way, way, _way_ , hotter than me. I mean-” 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Scott. I always thought you were very handsome.” Kurt interrupted pleasantly. 

Scott froze with his mouth open, stammering a little as he figured out what to do with the unexpected compliment. Peter, who was sitting behind Scott, tilted his head and narrowed his eyes skeptically. 

“But, like- _compared to Jean_ , though?” he questioned Kurt as he peered around Scott. He looked Scott up and down briefly before addressing him. “Not to be weird- I mean, you’re _okay_ face-wise, but if Jean’s prime-rib, then you’re a baked potato.” 

Scott shrugged and nodded. “See? This is exactly the point I’m trying to make.” 

“You’re not really that tall.” Peter added. 

“I guess not, but-” Scott acknowledged before being interrupted. 

“Teeth could stand to be whiter…” Peter rattled off. 

“Huh?” 

Peter moved instantly to stand behind Scott, scratching at the back of Scott’s head with his index finger. “Lil’ bit of dandruff back here?” 

Scott mumbled angrily while batting Peter away, stopping only when Peter retook his place on the bench. Finally, he was able to turn his attention back to Kurt. “So like I was saying. It isn’t even strictly a ‘looks’ thing, either. Jean’s, like, super smart and always got excellent grades, and is good at everything she tries, and spends her free time discussing with Hank and the Professor what _specific type of doctor_  she’d like to become. Meanwhile, do you know what I wanted to be when I grew up, when I was a little kid?” 

Scott paused to give Kurt a chance to answer. He simply frowned and shook his head. 

“A _fire_ _truck_. A ****Fucking.**** _Fire _._ Truck_.”    

Peter threw his head back and laughed hysterically. Kurt at least had the decency to suppress his laughter by looking away and covering his mouth with his hand. 

Scott put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and gave it a small shake. “No, go ahead, man. Laugh it up. I know it’s fucking stupid.” 

He paused a few seconds until Peter’s cackling and Kurt’s snickering died down before he continued. “So that’s basically where me and Jean have been, relationship-wise, this whole time. And there’s no way she doesn’t know it. Like, she has a picture of us together on her desk, and not a day goes by where I’m not afraid she’s gonna look at it and finally say ‘Ugh. This guy? Really?’ and break up with me. But it hasn’t happened yet. And, like, she actually seems happy when we’re together, and goes out of her way to spend time with me. And if she thinks I’m worth her time, then I have no choice but to trust her judgement.” 

Kurt nodded thoughtfully with his hand on his chin. Scott put his hand on Kurt’s shoulder and softened his tone. “So if you can’t shake the feeling that the person you’re with is too good for you, then that’s fine. But if she says that you’re _enough_ , then you just have to take her word for it. Because keeping your distance or holding back is just creating a situation where nobody is happy. Does that makes sense?” 

Kurt stared at his own hands clutched together on his lap and nodded slightly. “ _Ja_ , I think so.” 

“Great!” Scott said loudly and suddenly, and slapped Kurt on the back hard enough to pitch him several inches forward. “Cuz if we got that dealt with, then I have something I wanna talk about. Something really weird, that I’m not sure how I feel about it yet…” 

Scott went on to explain- using vague, somewhat stilted language- what had happened at the Drive-In between him and Jean, when she had somehow managed to telepathically share the sensation of her climax. As Scott spoke, Kurt furrowed his brow and listened warily, while Peter leaned obnoxiously close, with his elbows on his knees and his palms pressed together and to his chin, nodding thoughtfully. He was still in the same wet towel. 

When Scott finally finished speaking, he paused and held his hands out, awaiting some kind of reaction. Peter scoffed. “I don’t know why you’re confused about that, dude. Sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me. Like a two-for-one special…” 

“No- well, maybe, yeah- but like, my point is that I’m pretty sure that women’s orgasms are a lot better than ours!” Scott stated seriously. 

“Pfft! Yours, maybe. But mine are pretty fuckin’ great.” Peter said with a smug grin, leaning back with his arms crossed. 

“No, you don’t understand. There’s, like, _a lot_ more too it. It lasts longer. It involves, I dunno, a bunch more parts. It’s just better.” Scott struggled to explain. 

“Huh.” Peter stared off, deep in thought. 

“I feel like this is forbidden knowledge, Scott.” Kurt said quietly, with a touch of concern. “You shouldn’t know it, and once you learned it, you shouldn’t have told us.” 

“I dunno. Maybe if it were common knowledge, other guys wouldn’t go to such ridiculous lengths to get laid…” Scott offered. 

Kurt nodded thoughtfully. “It’s possible. For example, I’ve never even had sex, and now I’m already disappointed.” 

Hearing that, Peter moved instantaneously to throw himself onto Kurt’s back, holding his hands over Kurt’s ears in order to ‘earmuff’ him while he glared and whisper-yelled at Scott. “See?! Why’d ya haveta go and tell him that?! We were _making progress_ with him!” 

Kurt grabbed Peter’s hands off his head and shoulder-tossed him in one motion, with Peter managing to miraculously land on his feet AND keep his towel on. “Peter! That hurts, and I can still hear you!” 

Soon, everyone had returned to their seats on the bench, with Kurt giving Peter major side-eye, Peter trying to act casual, and Scott sitting awkwardly between them, drumming his fingers on his knees. Kurt cleared his throat quietly. “Perhaps it’s just a reason to try harder, when with someone. To try and do what they like.” 

“Yeah, totally. Cuz, like, the stakes are higher.” Scott agreed. 

“Or _maybe_ …” Peter interjected, holding a finger up and jerking his head towards Scott “As much as it pains me to say this- maybe we’re all just over-thinking this, cuz maybe you’re just, like, _the bomb_  at eating chicks out, and your results are just not applicable to the general population.” 

Scott shook his head and laughed, before adjusting his glasses carefully. “Well, if that’s _in any way_  true, then it’s only because of that lesson you gave us. It really did the trick.”   

“No shit, dude? Glad to be of service.” Peter beamed proudly. 

“Yeah, definitely. I was telling Jean about it, and-” 

“Oh, fuck. She get mad?” 

“No, not at all. She says you should write a book!” 

Peter’s mouth hung open in an expression of pure joy. Scott smiled and stood, throwing his gym bag over his shoulder. Kurt jointed him, but tipped his head towards Peter. 

“I should be thanking you as well. I know I was embarrassed at the time, and I know it wasn’t exactly what you were talking about, but your help gave me the confidence to try something I otherwise knew nothing about, and never really expected I’d have an opportunity to do.” 

Peter, if possible, smiled even harder. “That’s, like, _amazing_. I’m so fucking psyched for you, bro.” Peter stood and set his hands on his hips. “And when I write that book, it’s gonna have a _whole chapter_  on where to stick your cool extra mutant parts…” 

Scott laughed while Kurt pursed his lips and muttered a quiet, embarrassed “That’s nice…” 

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna call it ‘Quest for the G-Spot.’” Peter announced, panning one arm in front of him. “-Which is something I’m still working on. No thanks to Hank. I’ll keep you two posted with any updates on that front.” 

Scott and Kurt glanced at each other and nodded politely. 

Peter leaned towards them and added, in a hushed tone “Cuz, like, I asked Jubes about it, and she said she thinks hers is, like, in her _ear_? Which- I gotta be honest, fellas- is ****not****  where I expected it would be.” 

Kurt’s eyes widened, while Scott cringed and turned away. If only to change the subject, he tugged on the sleeve of Kurt’s shirt. 

“Huh. This is a new shirt for you.” 

Kurt grinned and grabbed the hem with both hands. The shirt was a bright red short-sleeved soccer jersey with white trim, the word ‘Commodor’ printed in white on the front, and an insignia over the left chest that had the words ‘F. C. Bayern Munchen’ surrounding a blue and white checkered pattern. “You like it? I found it at a thrift shop- I was very lucky! This is the Munich soccer team, who I always cheered for back home. That was where our _Jahrmarkt_ was based out of.” 

“I mean, yeah it’s a nice shirt. I just don’t think I’ve ever seen you wear short sleeves outside of, like, pajamas.” Scott explained. 

“Oh. _Ja_ …” Kurt quickly ran his hands up and down his bare, intricately decorated arms, and half-smiled. “I guess I’ve been trying new things.” 

Scott gave his shoulder a friendly pat. “No, it’s good, man. You look good.” 

“ ** **Shit yeah**** , you been trying new things!” Peter interjected loudly. He paused to regard his two younger teammates, nodding in silent approval. “I just feel like you guys are, like, growing up before my eyes…” he said, unprompted, with emotion creeping into his voice. 

“Um, thanks?” Scott offered. 

“And I’m just _so proud_ , cuz, like…” Peter suddenly launched himself into the narrow space between Scott and Kurt, slinging one arm around each of their necks so he could awkwardly hug them both. 

“Uh, dude? We’re really thankful, but-” Scott stammered uncomfortably, until he was cut off by Kurt. 

“Shh, Scott. Just let him have his moment.” Kurt whispered. 

“Growing up I never had, like, _brothers_ or… _friends_ -” Peter continued to mumble into his friend’s shoulders. 

Kurt gently patted Peter’s bare, damp shoulder while muttering “There, there.” Meanwhile, Scott stood trapped with his arms stiff at his sides, praying that Peter’s towel would stay on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song's title is from the 1984 song of the same name by Klymaxx. Best...band name...ever.  
> Just FYI, Aloe Vera and Ficus are two common types of house plants. I'm sure most people know that, but I didn't want to cause any confusion. 
> 
> Also, just a fair warning: the next chapter is pretty angsty. Like, I probably could have toned it down a bit in retrospect, but I wrote it shortly after my dog died so I think I was just in a really foul "If I gotta be sad, then everyone has to be sad!" kinda mood and didn't realize it. I'm mostly over that now (at least to the extent that I don't need other people to suffer...) and I considered just rewriting it, but I ultimately decided to keep it because now at least the happy parts will be even happier by comparison. That said, if angst isn't your thing, just wait an additional week and we should be back to our regularly scheduled program.


	29. What You Had, And What You Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ororo has a meeting about her garden, and she and Kurt get some time alone. It doesn't necessarily go according to plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of feelings in this sad-sack of a chapter. Apologies.

“Is it just me, or do lasers just suck, like, a ton of balls?” Peter ranted as the team made their way towards the locker rooms. He had whipped off his goggles and was now stripping off the top of his training uniform as he walked. 

“I dunno. I think they’re neat.” Scott mentioned with a shrug, but was ignored. 

“It’s like, I wanna go back in time and tell my six-year-old self not to get excited about the cool space guns and shit. Save myself from getting so disappointed.” Peter continued to grumble. 

“Oh, whatever. You’re just mad because they’re faster than you.” Jubilee pointed out smugly, as she peered out over the top of her pink sunglasses. 

Peter stopped in his tracks, narrowed his eyes at her, and frowned intensely. “Fuck off.” Jubilee just stuck her tongue out at him.

 “It’s alright, Peter.” Kurt started in the calm, professional tone they used in their Crisis Intervention seminar. He placed a hand just barely on Peter’s shoulder. “Feelings of inadequacy are perfectly normal in men your age.” 

Peter stared stone-faced at Kurt for half a second, before blurting “Suck my dick, Wagner.” 

“Hmm.” Jean chimed in, resting a finger on her chin and affecting the same detached, even tone as Kurt. “And how would that make you feel?” 

Peter furrowed his brow before jerking his head in Kurt’s direction. “With _his_ teeth? Probably really scared.”   

Jean and Kurt glanced at each other and snickered, while Peter shook his head and continued to trudge along with his teammates. They had recently finished a two-week-long seminar class on Crisis Intervention and Conflict Deescalation, which Kurt and Jean found illuminating but everyone else found insufferably boring. Today, they had started the first of a series of lectures and Danger Room sessions on lasers. Most found the new material exciting; except for Peter, who was dismayed to find that he can’t just outrun a hot beam of light. 

“What do we got planned for dinner, guys?” Scott surveyed as he stood at the junction between the Men’s and Women’s locker rooms. When he got only non-committal shrugs in response, he continued “Cuz a new pizza place just opened up across from the movie theater on Chestnut Drive, and they’re having a promotion where you get free medium garlic fingers when you order a large three-topping pizza.” 

Jubilee shrugged and tossed a pigtail behind her shoulder. “I could go for some free garlic fingers.” 

“I’m gonna make all three of my toppings mushrooms.” Peter said with a nod, before he twisted to avoid Jubilee’s elbow in his ribs. 

“And I’ll have them deliver it directly to the dumpster, where it belongs!” she exclaimed as he laughed. 

“Sweet!” Scott replied, rubbing his hands together. “So, like, front door- twenty minutes?” 

While the rest of the team responded in affirmative murmurs and shrugs, Ororo turned her head to the side and muttered angrily under her breath. “I can’t! I just remembered I have a meeting with the Professor about the progress of my garden.” she said regretfully. 

“Can I bring you home something?” Kurt asked her quietly. 

“Um, no, because I sort-of need you to come to the meeting with me.” she explained hastily while holding his forearm, cringing slightly at the prospect of having ruined his evening. 

“Of course, that’s no problem.” he responded instantly, with an easy smile. 

“Can we bring you guys back some pizza, then?” Jean offered. 

Ororo looked up at Kurt and shrugged. Kurt scratched the back of his head. “That’s alright. I have some leftovers from yesterday we can share. Thank you, though.” 

With that, everyone filed into their respective locker rooms so they could go about their evenings. 

******

 Ororo stood nervously at the edge of her garden, wringing her hands, with her eyes darting over various points in her small plot of land. 

“Do you think we have time to weed the lettuce?” she whispered to Kurt, glancing at him side-on. 

“They don’t need it. I checked.” he reassured her. 

“What is our snail situation?” she pressed. 

“Well-fed and plentiful.” he replied with a smirk. 

She responded by lightly swatting his abdomen. “You’re going to be the death of me!” 

“Death by snail attack.” he mumbled under his breath, grinning as she swatted at him again. 

A few seconds ticked by until she anxiously fiddled with the button on the sleeve of her loose-fitting gardening shirt. She turned to Kurt abruptly, head tilted. “Do you think he’ll be mad about the radishes?” 

Kurt looked upwards briefly, and his expression straightened. “Ororo, those are adequate, completely average radishes.” 

Ororo looked down and nodded stiffly. Kurt sighed and leaned closer to her, wrapping one arm around her shoulder and his tail a few times around her waist. “I don’t know why you are so worried, _Liebling _.__  You’ve worked very hard and your garden has turned out beautifully.”   

She let herself collapse against him, rolling her head onto his shoulder. “I don’t know. I’ve never been entrusted with something like this. He put a lot of faith in me, and I just don’t want to let him down.” 

He gave her shoulder a slight squeeze. “Oh, you won’t. And besides- The Professor is a very smart man, but he isn’t a farmer. He’ll come down here and see that the leaves are green, the sunflowers face the sun, and that the radishes are perfectly normal, and he will say that everything is lovely or brilliant, because that is what British people say when they see things they like.” 

She sighed and ran her fingers across the loop of tail around her waist, just as the soft crunch of feet and wheels moving over grass was heard in the distance. They quickly unraveled themselves from one another and stepped a respectable distance apart. Ororo turned to see Charles approaching, with Hank pushing his wheelchair helpfully. Ororo smiled and waved at them, while Kurt stood straighter and clasped his hands behind his back. 

“ _Gut_. Doctor McCoy is here. I can show him the trellis.” Kurt muttered quietly, leaving Ororo unsure as to whether or not he was being serious. 

When Charles and Hank arrived at the garden, Ororo went about explaining in detail every type of plant she had grown, how each was doing, when each was expected to be harvested, what had been harvested already, and what she planned on adding next season. In the background, Kurt clutched his tail in both hands as Hank crouched to poke and squint at Ororo’s cucumber trellis in order to appraise Kurt’s welding job. 

When she finally finished talking, Ororo stood with her hands clasped in front of her, waiting nervously for Charles to respond. He drummed his fingers on the arm of his wheelchair for a second as he again looked over the rows of plants before him. “Ororo, I have to say that this is just simply brilliant.”     

Out of the corner of her eye, she can see Kurt glance at her and wink. 

“We knew you had an _interest_ in horticulture, but what you’ve accomplished here shows not only a natural talent, but also an incredible amount of hard work. You’ve well exceeded our expectations.” 

Ororo looked at the ground while she collected her bearings, finally turning to Charles with a smile. “Thank you, Professor, but I- Really, it was just a matter of getting the right resources. Most people-” 

“Ororo, we gave you _access to dirt._ ” Charles motioned his hand across the expanse of her garden. “And although I recognize that you were not entirely without assistance-” he added, tilting his head in the towards where Kurt was standing. “this was all you. I’m very proud of you.” He paused a moment and placed his hand on her forearm. “But, moreover, you should be proud of yourself.”    

Ororo glanced downward, beaming. She quickly suppressed with with a respectful nod. “Thank you.” 

“In fact-” Charles continued, “next semester, would you be interested in teaching? Perhaps an upper-level class in Environmental Sciences, or something of the sort? It would be a small class, but if you like it -other duties permitting- you could take on a larger teaching role in the future.” 

She took a deep breath. “That would- yes, I would like that. Thank you.” 

The next couple seconds of relative silence was broken by Hank loudly exclaiming “Oh my stars and garters, this is a big sunflower.” Everyone turned to see him staring up at the largest of the six sunflowers Ororo and Kurt had planted, shaking his head with his hands on his hips. 

“Well, yes. It’s been a great season for them.” Ororo called over. 

“No, I mean that this is probably the biggest sunflower that I’ve ever seen. It’s huge.” Hank elaborated. 

Ororo helped push Charles over to where Hank and Kurt were standing, and they all looked at at the sunflower in question. 

Hank turned to address Charles. “You know what we should do? We should submit this to the Summer Harvest exhibition that they have at the County Fair every year. I think they give out ribbons for exceptional specimens like this one.” 

Charles nodded thoughtfully. Ororo grinned as Kurt reached out to jostle her shoulder playfully. 

“Yes, don’t they have a special section in the newspaper about that every year? They announce prizes and have a few human-interest stories and pictures. It could be very good PR.” Charles agreed. 

“Oh, definitely. Especially with this being a specialized school and you two being relatively recent immigrants-” Hank elaborated, motioning towards Ororo and Kurt. “they could put a cute ‘coming to America’ spin on it. I’ll get in touch with the exhibition committee and keep everyone posted.” 

Ororo could only smile, speechless, as Kurt leaned in and patted her forearm. “Hear that, _Liebling _?__ You might be famous!”  

******

After the meeting, they ate dinner in the kitchen. Kurt heated up the rest of some soup he had made the previous day, and despite him enthusiastically describing everything that went into it, Ororo found it mainly just tasted like potato. Hot, wet potato. After the fifth time Ororo reached for the pepper shaker, Kurt cringed. 

“So, perhaps I’m not a great cook…”he muttered sheepishly. “You…I wish you could try it like how my mother made it. It’s definitively missing something. Of course, she never considered __writing down__  a recipe, so I was just trying to remember what I saw her throw in a pot five years ago…” he rambled. 

“It’s okay.” she assured him with a impish smile, as she hooked both of her ankles around one of his. “I know you’re good at other things.”    

He blushed and stared into his soup bowl, but the tail wrapping itself around her calf was not completely innocent. 

******

When their friends hadn’t returned home by the time they finished dinner, they made their way back to Ororo’s room. She was in such a good mood from her meeting that she felt like celebrating, but in the absence of their other friends, it just meant that she and Kurt would have to make their own fun. 

Since their date two weeks ago, they had gone on another double-date with Scott and Jean to the movie theater, and a couple solo outings for ice cream and to pick up garden supplies. It seemed to Ororo that they were probably considered ‘dating’ but they hadn’t sat down to agree on exact terms. In public, his behavior towards her was discrete but shyly affectionate. Once they got behind a closed door, however, he remained every bit as eager and expressive as he had been the first night they were together. That said, he still always managed to redirect her attention on him once things progressed past a certain point. He was so predictable in this, that she would sometimes just place her hand on his belt to see how many seconds it would take him to try and subtly move it elsewhere. She knew she shouldn’t complain, but it was getting frustrating. Especially when Jubilee insisted on reminding her about their last outstanding bet on an almost-daily basis. 

Once they were in her room, Ororo pulled off her frumpy, well-worn gardening shirt and tossed it aside, straightening out the plain white tank-top she wore underneath. “I can’t believe the Professor wants me to teach!” 

Kurt pulled her into a quick, firm hug. “Well, you should believe it. You will be great at it.” 

She grinned and sat on the edge of her bed with a bounce, patting the space next to her. “And what did Doctor McCoy say about your welding?” 

“He said it was alright.” Kurt replied with a nod and a half-smile. 

She leaned over to reach into her bedside table with a laugh, pulling out the bottle of wine she kept there. “That alone calls for celebration.” 

The wine quickly became ignored as he took a seat beside her and ran his thumb along her jawline. They kissed slowly, with his tail winding it’s way around her waist and squeezing her gently. She sighed as he moved to kiss her neck, and slid her hands across his shoulders and down his arms, pausing to run her fingers along the firm, warm appendage at her midsection. He hummed and pulled her closer, and she moved her hand to his knee. 

She thought maybe- _maybe_ \- their unexpected level of solitude, or the fact that they were supposed to be celebrating, that they had been together for a few weeks now, or that she pretty clearly knew what she was doing would be enough to allow him to relax for a few minutes. But- much to her disappointment- once her hand rubbed up his inner thigh more than a few centimeters, he quickly grabbed it and re-positioned it to his side.   

She twisted her fingers into the fabric of his shirt and huffed a small laugh. “You’re starting to make me feel a bit selfish.” 

“Well, you should,” he muttered into her neck with the barest hint of sarcasm. He carefully slid the strap of her tank top down her arm so he could kiss across her shoulder. “because I don’t get anything out of this whatsoever.” 

She laughed and raised an eyebrow. “You know, sarcasm doesn’t suit you.” 

He wrapped his arms around her waist and leaned his head against hers. “It may not, but you do.” 

She scoffed and pulled away from him, maneuvering herself further into the center of the bed. This was a habit of his- trying to distract her through a combination of charm, flirtation, and simple flattery.  She patted the bedspread around her and gave him a pointed look. “You should know that since we are already in bed together, it really is impossible for you to charm me any more than you have.” 

He grinned and clasped his hands together. “Oh- _gut _!__ If that’s the case-” He stood up off the bed and motioned for her to stay put. “Please hold that thought. I have something- Just stay there and I’ll be right back!”With that, he teleported out of the room. 

Ororo poured herself a small glass of wine and sat cross-legged, drumming her fingers on her knee in the few minutes it took Kurt to return. When he re-entered the room with a loud ‘BAMF’ and a burst of sulfurous smoke, he stood at the side of her bed and thrust several objects in his grip towards her, his expression tentative and hopeful. She leaned towards him to inspect the collection of things he held in both hands. It was a calculator, a mechanical pencil, and a damned math assignment. 

She let her shoulders slump as she stared up at him incredulously. “ _Really_?” 

“ _Bitte_ \- Please, Ororo,” he begged, setting the assignment and other items down on her bedspread. “Just a few problems so that I know what I’m doing wrong. You’re the only one with the combination of intelligence and patience required to help me.” 

Ororo crossed her arms. “Have you tried asking the teacher?” 

He smirked slightly. “Yes, but he isn’t as cute.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere.” 

“It’s gotten me this far.” 

She stared back and forced herself to look at least a little stern. He gazed back pleasantly until eventually he sighed and slumped. “He just- he gets frustrated with me. I think he’s used to eleventh-grade math students who have also mastered grades one through ten.” 

She let out a long, weary sigh. “Alright, fine-” she said, patting the bedspread next to her. “but you’re going to have to make it up to me later!” 

He hopped into place next to her and flipped open the assignment. “I would have thought not dating a stupid person would be it’s own reward, but whatever you like!” She scoffed and shook her head before grabbing his calculator. 

 

All told, it really only took about half an hour to figure out what Kurt had been doing wrong with his math assignment and set him on the right track. After they were satisfied that he understood assignment enough to finish it on his own, he teleported his supplies back to his room and quickly returned to the same spot he had been seated in. 

“I promise that’s the last quadratic equation you’ll see from me for a while.” Kurt assured with a nod and a smile. 

“Good.” Ororo stated emphatically, leaning into his neck and running one hand up his thigh, “Because there are other things I’d much rather see from you.” 

True to form, he picked her hand off his leg with a nervous laugh and held it. She sighed and let her forehead drop into his shoulder. 

“I’m starting to feel like things are a little one-sided between us.” she said, quietly and seriously. 

He slung his free arm around her waist. “Well, _ja_ , I see how you could think that…” he replied, “but I promise next time you need help with an English assignment, I am at your disposal.” 

She laughed into his shirt despite herself, before shifting to wrap both arms around his neck. She looked up at him, pausing until she knew he was no longer smiling. “I just want you to feel what I feel when we’re together.” 

His mouth dropped open and he stammered to reply. His tail thumped the bedspread erratically. 

“Because if I’ve _done_ something or _said_ something, I wish you would _tell me_.” she continued. 

“It has nothing to do with you.” he assured hastily, shaking his head. 

“Obviously it does, if it makes you uncomfortable to be with me.” 

“Ororo, I am _trying_.” he finally blurted. He reached out to grab his tail, which still drummed the mattress distractingly. “I’m trying, and I want to… do the things you want me to, but I also like things the way that they are, and I know that you’re just trying to be nice, but I’m not willing to give up what we have for morbid curiosity. I like you and I want you to be happy.” 

Ororo pulled back in bewilderment. “What? There’s no _morbid_ curiosity, it’s just normal, healthy curiosity.” He shrugged uncomfortably and looked away. “I don’t know how you got that idea. These things work both ways. That’s what being in a relationship is about.” 

He kept looking away, with his mouth straight and his tail clutched tightly to his chest with both hands. “All the times I’ve been on display, everyone has made it clear they don’t like what they see.” 

She reached out and tugged his tail out of his grip and laid it across her lap, running her hands across it softly. “Everything I’ve seen so far, I like very much.” His expression softens slightly. “And if this is about how people treated you at the circus, then you need to remember you aren’t there any more, and never will be again. Anything they said to you was a lie.” 

He turned back to her with his head tilted quizzically. “The _Jahrmarkt_ wasn’t bad. I miss it every day _ _.”__  He shifted around to face her better, holding his hands out as he explained. “The circus is where strange people run away to, to be accepted. It was the best place in the world for me. My mother and sister and brother and I all travelling together with our troupe and all sorts of different performers, all around Germany and some of the surrounding countries…” He trailed off with a laugh, adding, “It wasn’t always easy. I can remember my mother trying to explain to some of our older, more superstitious members ‘My Kurti is no different than Udo’s boy with the hare-lip, God just shaped him a little differently!’ But for the most part, people were nice to me.” 

Ororo furrowed her brow and repeated “Udo’s boy with the hare-lip…” in quiet confusion. 

“And being an acrobat was just… _unglaublich_.” He tipped his head back for emphasis before exhaling. “Could you imagine being born with a job? The job you were just _meant to have_? I was placed on a trapeze before I could walk. I can run across a tightrope better than most people can walk down the street. The things you saw gymnasts do when we watched the Olympics? All that was a joke to me. I’ve never seen another performer do something I couldn’t do better. Ororo, I wish you could have seen- when I would perform alone, or when my sister and I would perform together… you would not have believed your eyes.” 

She smiled at his enthusiastic rambling, and tried to picture it in her head- the lights, the music, the death-defying acts. Hearing him talk about it, she is struck by how little she knew about his past. For as long as she had known him, he always displayed a bizarre combination of dramatic flair and profound shyness- leaving her now wondering how those two traits came to exist in the same person. She let him passively wrap his tail around her wrist as she runs her fingers down it. 

“It really does sound like an amazing place to grow up.” she said while trailing her fingers over the spade of his tail. He smiled and nodded emphatically. She furrowed her brow and asked tentatively, “If you liked it so much, how come you didn’t just go back when Raven rescued you from the fighting ring?” 

His expression fell and he stared into his lap. “Because at that point, it didn’t exist anymore.” 

She looks at him silently, awaiting elaboration. He shrugged slightly before continuing. “A little over a year before that, our circus was bought out by a company that operated several circuses and groups of touring performers. I had started teleporting several months before that, and wasn’t shy about it at all- I did it whenever I could, and even while performing. The new owners took note and made it clear that under no circumstances was I to continue working as an acrobat. They didn’t want the ‘wrong’ kind of attention. I was welcome to stay on as a worker- set up equipment and cook and clean up after the animals and such- but I had to mostly stay out of sight.” 

“I didn’t think there was a ‘wrong’ type of attention in show business…” Ororo pointed out. 

Kurt tipped his hand towards her. “That’s what I tried to explain to them. That I was their best and most popular acrobat. But they were adamant.” He shrugged a little and continued. “My brother, Stefan, was in a similar situation. He had been working with our ringmaster, and at one point it seemed like he was being trained to take over when the ringmaster retired. But when the _Jahrmarkt_ was sold, the new owners wanted to use their own people. So rather than accept the position the new owners offered, Stefan and I said goodbye to my mother and sister and set out to find other work.”   

He paused and his posture slouched. His tail tightened itself around her wrist and he looked away, covering his lower face with his hand for a few seconds before he spoke again. “That was a mistake. I was far too proud. I could have stayed with my family and worked a perfectly respectable job, but I left it all behind because I liked the attention.”   

She held the arm he had wrapped his tail around against her chest, and continued running her free hand across it. He eventually took a deep breath and continued. “Even from the start, it was clear it was a bad idea. Stefan quickly exhausted the connections he had with other circus troupes, which he blamed on me- either I was too odd, or, he claimed, I had grown too tall to be an acrobat. We soon ran low on money- partly because he drank too much and had even starting using drugs. He thought he could hide it from me, but I knew. Eventually, we started moving towards the border between _Westdeutschland_ and the _Ostzone_. He claimed he knew people who could find us work. Ordinary work. Manufacturing. Mining. Manual labor. I was sad to leave the circus, but hopeful that I could find a place to fit in. As long as I worked hard and acted respectably, who would care what I looked like?” 

She watched him stare at his own hands folded in his lap, and a flash of anger crossed his features. He quickly suppressed it and turned pleasantly back to her. “I know it sounds foolish, but I was excited for the prospect of a normal life. As far back as I can recall, it was just assumed that I should keep to myself. I can remember playing with the other circus children many years ago, and our more watchful members yelling at me ‘Kurti! You leave those girls alone!’ and me thinking ‘Okay! Girls are gross anyway!.’ Of course this started to bother me as I got older, but now it appeared I might live a normal life in a normal town with a normal job- Who would stop me from meeting a nice girl who’s favorite color was blue?” 

Ororo sighed. “It wasn’t fair for your circus people to benefit from your work, yet still treat you as less than a regular person.” 

Kurt shrugged awkwardly and looked around the room. “You need to understand that these were old-fashioned, very superstitious people. They only barely understood what a mutant even was, much less that they could look like…” He trailed off, and gestured over his face and body. “Some of our members were opposed to my mother keeping me in the first place. They were not convinced that I wasn’t some sort of _Kobold_ or _kleiner Teufel_. They grew to tolerate me, but that doesn’t mean that they wanted blue grandchildren.”    

“Pfft. They should be so lucky.” 

Kurt smirked at her slightly before continuing. “Anyway. One day, while we were in a town close to the border, Stefan started yelling at me for some reason. It seemed that the further away we got from the circus, the more reasons he found to be angry with me. I had gotten sick of listening to him, so I yelled back that I didn’t need him, and could find my own job and raise my own family. He didn’t like that at all. He grabbed me by the arm and essentially dragged me all the way to the town’s small church, that I had attended a few times. It was empty, so he pulled me halfway up the aisle and demanded to know where I sit when I attend on Sundays. I pointed to the balcony. He asked why. I said to avoid scaring people. He asked where I would have to stand if I were to get married in this same church. I pointed to the front, near the altar. He grabbed me by the shoulders and asked if I seriously thought that there would be a woman willing to stand there with me, that the priest would be willing to oversee such a union, that her family would come to give their blessing, or that the community would accept us as one of their own. When I didn’t answer, he shook me and said ‘You can’t even picture it in _your own head_ , can you?’ And he was right. I couldn’t.”   

Ororo’s mouth dropped open. She often found herself feeling a little envious of people who had siblings. Now, maybe, not so much. 

“After that, we walked home the long way, and he explained to me- very carefully- how my life was going to go. He said I needed to get over the idea of having a family of my own. He was the only family I had, and the only person who would look out for me now that we were unlikely to see our mother or sister again. I wouldn’t make my own friends, but he could make sure his friends tolerated me. He brought up an incident from a few years before, when our mother was away so he brought a girl home from the _Kneipe_ \- or, um, bar- without telling my sister or I. When I went to make breakfast the next morning, there was a strange woman sitting at the table. As soon as she saw me, she started screeching and threw a cup at me, and tripped down the stairs of our caravan door trying to get away. Stefan thought it was hilarious at the time, because he had been trying to get her to leave anyways. Now, though, it was just another reason why I had to stay with him and do what he said. The only way I could get with a woman, he insisted, was by force or by paying for it. But maybe, with his help and connections, he might be able to find someone perverted enough to touch me.” 

“So what did he want you to do?” Ororo snapped out of second-hand anger. “Obviously this was a manipulation tactic. To trick you into doing something. What was it?” 

“Heh, well, it wasn’t obvious to me.” Kurt mumbled quietly while picking at his fingernails. “But, clearly, you are much savvier than me. Everything he said was grounded in truth. ‘Kurti, why do you think that girl ran away screaming? Why is your last name different from ours? Why do people stop talking when you walk into the room? Why did the new owners fire you, but keep that clumsy oaf Till on the payroll?’” He sniffed quietly and looked away for a second. “When he made the comment about the women, I almost teleported away because I was so ashamed and disgusted by the things he was saying. But, in the end, he was completely right. He was the only other person I knew, the only thing keeping me from being completely alone. I promised to be good, and to do what he said.” 

“And what was it?” 

“Smuggling. What else?” His expression instantly became bitter and stern. “This was the work that Stefan claimed to have connections for. This is why we came all the way from Munich.” 

“So, what did you do?” 

“The first few times, I just went along with it. It appeared to mostly be consumer goods- types of liquor, musical records, and such- that were difficult to get in the _Ostzone _.__  I thought it was a victimless crime. _ _”__     

Ororo fiddled with her earring and shrugged. “It mostly is. I’ve done worse.” 

“Hmm. I really don’t think so. You see-” He stopped to scratch the back of his neck, stalling. “On about the fourth or fifth time I teleported something for these people, the case I was transporting cracked open. It turned out that it wasn’t schnapps or American pop records. It was drugs and guns.” 

“...Oh.” 

“ _Ja_. So not such a victimless crime after all.” His face contorted with a mix of rage and shame. “I went directly to Stefan and demanded we leave. What we were doing was wrong and it was only a matter of time before someone was hurt or killed. He slapped me across the face and demanded to know what the _point of me_  was. After all these years, what was the point of looking after me if I couldn’t do this for him. He asked another man who he worked with if the ‘original offer’ still stood. The man nodded, so he just walked away from me. He didn’t even look back when the other man stabbed me in the leg with a needle, or when I fell to the floor.” 

“He sold you.” 

Kurt froze and stared at her with wide, shocked eyes, before giving an almost imperceptibly slight nod. 

“Jean told me.” she quickly explained. “Is that how you ended up in the cage fighting ring?” 

His tail, which had been wrapped around her forearm, went slack before he moved it to wrap around his own calf. He looked away and covered his lower face with his hand, staring off silently. She pulled his free arm out of his lap and held it against her with both hands. 

“Tell me.” she pressed, quietly and firmly. 

Seconds ticked by until he shook his head, face still covered. “It wasn’t _that_ , it was…” he said when he finally uncovered his mouth, “more like a freak show, I suppose.” 

“Goddess, Kurt…” she breathed in shock as she squeezed his hand. 

He shifted uncomfortably, moving away from her. “It could have been worse, I guess. I didn’t even have to do anything, I…” He looked around the room while chewing his thumbnail. “There was a drug that stopped me from teleporting, but it also made me dizzy and weak and nauseated. I could hardly stand, so I mostly just curled up on the floor of my cage and tried not to vomit. I think I slept most of the time. The days ran together.” 

“A…a _cage_?” Ororo repeated in disbelief, to which Kurt just shrugged. “Where was this? How long did they have you? Does Raven know?” 

He leaned away and frowned, wringing his hands stiffly at the sudden onslaught of questions. “I don’t know. I think she at least _suspects_ , but doesn’t actually _know_ … As for where I was, I still have no idea. I asked many times, but no one would tell me. Really, no one spoke to me the whole time. I’d ask where we were, who they were, for a spoon, for a blanket, for more water…no one would ever respond. People spoke about me, though- loudly. What they thought I was, where they thought I had come from, how I looked, what they thought should be done with me…” 

Ororo watched as his posture subconsciously shifted until he was as small and inconspicuous as possible- cross-legged with hunched shoulders, tail wound around one leg and hands gripping each other close to his abdomen. He exhaled a long, shuddering sigh. “Generally, people were disappointed. They apparently had paid to see a terrifying fiend, but were greeted by the sight of a ugly, pathetic teenager who was more vaguely unsettling than terrifying. Moreover, I was too weak to do much more than lie there. So people would shout and throw things and jab at me to get me to do something. A few times I managed to snatch a stick from someone with my tail, and that was a real crowd-pleaser.” He huffed a small, bitter laugh. 

Ororo hesitantly ran her fingertips through his hair, around the pointed tip of his ear. She wanted to hold him, perhaps to hug him the way he did to her when she was upset, but his stiff, curled-up posture made it impossible. 

“One day, I woke up to see a young mother with her two children standing by my cage, tapping on the floor- probably to get my attention so I’d do something. She reminded me of my mother, and it made me think of how my mother always told me about how she got me. A stranger knocked on the door in the middle of the night, with an odd-looking baby wrapped in a bath towel, asking for help. She’d tell me that at first she was concerned, but then she looked into my eyes and saw that I was just one of God’s children, no different from her own natural children, and that her taking me in was just part of His plan. I thought this young woman might see things similarly, might be able to understand that the way they were treating me was wrong…I grabbed her hand and whispered ‘ _Bitte helfen Sie _.__ ’” He let his eyes slip shut and swallowed before continuing, “She pulled away like I had burned her, grabbed her two children and ran off. Whatever it was that my mother saw in me all those years ago was gone. I think I just gave up after that.”      

“How did you escape?” Ororo whispered. She had wrapped both hands around his bicep and leaned into his shoulder. She felt him laugh almost-silently and shake his head. 

“I never escaped. From what I was able to overhear, the drug they used to keep me from teleporting was expensive, and because I had turned out to be such a _disappointing freak_ , they sold me again to try and recoup their losses. Apparently for less than they paid for me. It was the cage fighting ring that bought me. The rest you already know.”   

“How long did they keep you for?” 

“Um…I don’t really know. I think around eight or nine months?” 

Ororo gasped and pulled back from him. “So, before, when you mentioned to me that you had a ‘rough few months’- is this what you were referring to?” He glanced over at her and nodded slightly.  “Well, that was an extreme understatement. I think you need to tell someone about this. Talk to someone. Like Raven or the Professor.” 

Kurt shook his head rapidly. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t even want to think about it. The only reason I’m telling you is because you’re asking why I’m not-” He paused his rambling to shrug awkwardly before continuing on a different tangent. “Because it’s been hard. It’s been hard for me to be able to look in a mirror and say ‘That is a man.’ Even if no one else agrees. I know it and God knows it, and that’s enough for me. I never expected to have to worry about what someone else thought of me, and now I’m just afraid- I just wish I had met you before all this, Ororo- everything would have been easier… I’m used to being off-putting, but I think that if you started to see me the way all those other people did- I don’t think I could stand it.” 

“No…” she breathed, reaching out to grab both his hands in hers and pulling them to her chest, tugging him a bit so that he turned to her, “No, that would never happen. I could never look at you like that, and neither could anyone else here.” 

“That’s just it. _Everyone_ does.” he stated flatly after holding her gaze for a fraction of a second. “People only used to treat me nicely out of respect for my mother or because of my skills. Once those were stripped away, there just wasn’t much left.” 

“To me, it seems like ‘what’s left’ should be more than enough for anyone…” 

He sighed and pulled one hand away from her, rubbing it up and down his upper arm nervously. “You really have no way to know that, though. Sex changes people, it changes how they see each other. When everything is laid bare between two people, it…you really can’t say you like me when you don’t know me.” 

She looked down at his hand, held by both of hers, before bringing it to her face to tilt her cheek against his heavy knuckles. “All I want is the _chance_ to know you. Let me try to know you.” 

He glanced away, biting his lip nervously as his face darkened. “But if something _happens_ , something _changes_ \- in a way you _don’t like_ …It’s not like we can just go back.” 

His canine tooth poked out endearingly, and she smiled a little before reaching out smooth out a few stray hairs on his forehead. “That’s not something to worry about. If we try something that one of us doesn’t like, we just _say so_  and move on to something else. It’s that easy.” He doesn’t respond, but his posture seems less stiff.       

She tried to catch his gaze as she ran her fingers over the hand she still held. “Besides, it’s not like we haven’t done _anything_ physical- it’s just been a bit one-sided…” She paused to entwine her fingers with his. “and if it’s made you think less of me, you haven’t acted like it.” 

“ _Nein_ , no of course not!” he gasped, reaching out to hold the back of her head and run his thumb over the fine stubble around her ear. “Although, it’s a bit different, since you’re…” He trailed off, apparently unable to find his words. 

Ororo huffed in frustration and looked up at him, eyebrow raised. “Normal?” 

He cracked a half-smile while staring back. “The word I was looking for was ‘incredible.” 

“Stop it!” she demanded in a burst of laughter, while swatting at his abdomen. He laughed with her and twisted away. She took the opportunity to move closer to him, so when he turned back she was kneeling at his side with both arms around his neck. 

“Has it occurred to you that _I_ think _you’re_ incredible, and in fact, the _better_ I know you, the _more_ I like you?” 

He exhaled a small, quiet laugh and looked away bashfully. His tail drummed the bedspread. She turned his head back towards her with a hand on his cheek, her expression becoming serious. “And you need to understand that your brother was wrong. He was a horrible person who acted to put you in contact with other horrible people. I know that you may have loved him, and may have felt that you needed him, but there was nothing brotherly about how he treated you. I have never had a sibling, but even I can see that.” 

His mouth straightened and he furrowed his brow, a fang peeking again out as he bit his lip. He lets his eyes slip shut, although whether it’s to avoid the intensity of her gaze or prevent himself from crying, Ororo can’t be sure. 

She gave him a small shake and idly twirls her fingertips into the hair at the back of his head. “And besides, everything he ever said about you has since been proven to be a lie. He told you that you couldn’t make friends, but to hear Jubilee tell it, you walked in the front door of this building and made several new friends _in minutes_.” 

Kurt shrugged slightly. “She helped.” 

Ororo continued undeterred. “He said you couldn’t find your own work, but you now have a very interesting job- not to mention that this time next year, you’ll probably be flying an airplane.” 

He slung his arms around her waist and smiled at her. “As will you! And probably teaching, besides!” 

She grinned and poked him in the chest with a finger. “That’s not the point!” She leaned closer to him and ran her hand slowly down his chest as his tail coiled itself around her thigh. Her voice dropped to just above a husky whisper. “You also didn’t need any help finding a woman who wanted to touch you.” She heard him inhale slowly as he tightened his grip on her. She smiled to herself and added as an afterthought, “Although I don’t consider myself to be overly perverted. Perhaps a small amount. Likely just the usual amount.” 

Kurt chuckled a little and gave her a small squeeze. “I don’t think that about you.” 

“Well, maybe you should-” she stated insistently, before shifting herself onto his lap and running both hands through his hair. “Because there are a million things I want to do to you. I don’t know how we’ll ever find the time…” They paused for a split-second with their foreheads pressed together, before she moved closer for a firm, restrained kiss. The next one was harder, deeper, and it only took a small nudge for him to fall back onto the bedspread and take her with him.   

She smiled against his mouth as they instinctively arranged themselves- bodies pressed together and legs tangled. She braced herself on her forearm on one side of his head, and kept the other hand on the side of his face as they kissed passionately. His hands slid under the hem of her plain tank top, and his tail shifted ticklishly around her thigh. The sound of firm, rapid knocking on her door was so sudden and unexpected that they both froze and whipped their heads towards the sound in shock. When it continued, Ororo sighed and let her head fall into the crook of his neck in disappointment. 

“Ignore it.” she heard him whisper, and she breathed a small laugh into his hair. 

“Guys! Put on your damn pants and open the door! It’s an _emergency_!” Peter’s voice called through the door as the knocking continued undeterred. 

With an exasperated sigh she pushed herself up while Kurt propped himself up on his elbows. They glanced at each other, with him offering a slight smile and a helpless shrug. “The house had better be on fire.” she stated flatly. 

They both got off the bed and moved towards the door, with Ororo throwing it open with unmasked frustration. “What could be so urgent?!” she demanded of her visitors. 

“Heeyyy!” Jubilee sung out jovially as Peter stood at her side, hands now stuffed in his pockets. Standing behind Ororo, Kurt offered a small wave while Ororo stared back stone-faced. “So, like, the other two sent us up here to get you guys cuz we swung by the movie rental place after dinner and Jean managed to rope us into a horror-movie marathon-” 

“And one of the movies is this Italian one that sounds _fucking gross_  if we’re being honest,” Peter interjected, “but Jean says you speak Italian so she needs you.” he added, throwing a quick finger-gun at Kurt. 

“I’m certain the movie will have subtitles.” Kurt replied politely. 

“The other thing is that one of the movies is about a bunch of creepy Midwestern kids, so I also need moral support-” Jubilee said to Ororo with a hopeful smile and her hands laced together, “because kids are creepy.” 

Ororo scoffed. “Get it from him.” she replied, motioning her head towards Peter. 

“Noo! He makes it worse! He waits til the quiet, tense parts and then scares me!” Jubilee complained as Peter laughed. “I need you to protect me!” she pleaded, causing Ororo to roll her eyes and drop her arms to her sides in frustration. 

“Oh! I almost forgot-” Peter stepped forward, motioning towards Kurt with both hands. “Summers said that if you come down and make us caramel corn, he would both be your best friend forever and let you name his first-born.” 

“Well, he didn’t say that _specifically_ , but it was implied and we’ll hold him to it.” Jubilee said with an impish smirk and a toss of her pigtail. 

Ororo crossed her arms and looked over to Kurt, unimpressed. He clutched his hands together and smiled sheepishly back. “I like to name things.” he muttered quietly. 

She sighed for what seemed like the ten-thousandth time and slipped her arm around his waist. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is from Fleetwood Mac's 1977 song "Dreams." This song is such a jam. I just friggin' love Fleetwood Mac so much, it's the perfect music for if you wanna just stew in your own emotions for a few hours. I could make every chapter title Fleetwood Mac lyrics, they're just great.
> 
> Now, as much as I'm a glutton for angst sometimes, I didn't invent the worst parts of this chapter. The part about Kurt being drugged and manipulated into being part of a freak show is comic canon- see the Nightcrawler 2004 solo series. It's a great read, regardless. Also, the part about his brother Stefan being a negative influence on his life is also comic canon, although in the comics it's more like 'Stefan is possessed by demons and is a serial killer (!!!) and Kurt is forced to kill him and gets the blame' and I thought it would be simpler to just be like 'Stefan is an asshole." In addition, "Oh my stars and garters!" is a thing that Hank says. Like, it's basically his catch phrase. I'm not creative enough to make up things like that.
> 
> Other little notes- i'm not sure if this is common knowledge, but a 'hare-lip' is a not-really-acceptable way to refer to a cleft palate. The movie Peter is referring to is "The Beyond" (1981) and he's right. It is fucking gross. The movie Jubilee is referring to is "Children of the Corn" (1984) and she's right- Kids are creepy.
> 
> The next (long-ass) chapter will be a little more up-beat. The next couple chapters will also feature sexual content, so be warned.


	30. It’s No Better To Be Safe Than Sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ororo does a newspaper interview. Raven and Erik have a meeting. Everyone tries to watch wrestling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This long-ass chapter has it all! Photography! Dick! Yelling! Mail!  
> Featuring gratuitous '80s Pro-Wrestling references and somewhat explicit sexual content. Not together, though. That would be weird.

 

“I don’t care what anyone says. I _like_ Rowdy Roddy Piper and I hope he wins tonight.” 

“Boo!” 

Jean easily used her telekinesis to avoid the Lucky Charms marshmallow that Jubilee sent hurtling in her direction. The X-Men sat close together in the kitchen’s breakfast nook, chatting about tonight’s anticipated wrestling program. 

“What?! He’s better than Hulk Hogan! He’s just like ‘Whatcha gonna do, brother!’ and ripping his stupid ugly shirt off! Give me a break! It’s dumb!” Jean defended, while miming Hogan’s famous shirt-ripping and waving her spoon around. 

“I’m a little concerned about how good your Hulk Hogan impression is.” Scott commented with a frown. 

“I miss Andre the Giant. When is he coming back?” Kurt asked quietly. 

“Yes. And Jimmy Snuka. They should both return soon.” Ororo added. 

“Ugh. Can’t stand Andre the Giant. Too fucking slow.” Peter replied while shaking his head and reaching around Jubilee’s shoulder to steal some of her cereal. “Now Brett Hart- there’s a wrestler! Fuckin’ Hit Man…” he mumbled approvingly around a mouthful of stolen breakfast. 

Suddenly, Jean threw both hands into the center of the small table, motioning for everyone to be quiet. “Guys, shut up about wrestling for a second! The Professor’s coming!” 

Jubilee rolled her eyes. “He knows we watch wrestling, Jean! I’m sure he doesn’t give a shit.” she whispered, but was shushed by Jean. 

“Good morning, everyone.” Charles called out politely as he rounded the corner and came into view. The team responded with a chorus of pleasant assorted greetings. “I understand Raven has given you the morning off- does anyone have any interesting plans?” 

“Me and Jean are going into town to get snacks for when we all watch wrestling in the TV room later tonight-” Jubilee started saying rapidly with her hand raised. Jean blanched and immediately tried to kick her under the table. “So we’ll have a bunch of food and the Intercontinental Championship belt is up for grabs and you’re more than welcome to join us!” she rattled off before Jean could silence her. 

“Thank you, Jubilation. It’s kind of you to invite me.” Charles replied with a nod. 

“It starts at nine!” she added gleefully. Jean stared into her cereal bowl, defeated.   

“Excellent. That also reminds me…” he said, with his hand to his chin, “Ororo, Hank has informed me that the officials from the County Fair, as well as a photographer and a journalist from the newspaper, will be by around eleven this morning. Could we meet at your garden around that time? I’m sure it won’t be long.”   

Ororo froze, spoon in-hand, for a split second before what he had said sunk in. “Yes, of course, Professor. I’ll be there.” 

“Excellent. See you then.” Charles replied with a smile and left. 

Ororo stirred her cereal with her spoon while giddily drumming her fingertips on the table. Scott nodded, impressed. “Hmm. Nice. The County Fair is a pretty big deal. People plan their whole summer around it.” 

Ororo grinned in response, before reaching out to pat the back of Kurt’s hand. “You heard the Professor, correct? We’ll meet them at the garden before eleven.” 

Kurt’s expression straightened and he blinked a few times before answering. “That’s not what I heard at all.” 

“And perhaps you could wear your nice red button-up shirt. That would look good.” 

He stared back blankly, shaking his head. Ororo slumped in disappointment. 

Jean reached across the table and poked Kurt’s shoulder. “Maybe you could go and just be, like, background moral support?” 

Kurt looked downwards for a few seconds. “ _Ja_ , that would be okay.” Ororo mouthed ‘Thank you’ to Jean, who nodded once in acknowledgment. 

“Still wear the red shirt, though. Just in case.” Ororo added pleasantly. Kurt hung his head and sighed. 

******

 “See? I told you it would look good.” 

“Well, it is my one nice shirt…” 

Kurt smiled shyly and turned away when Ororo moved to fix his collar and then his hair. He quickly found his attention caught by her outfit, and placed a hand softly on her hip. She stilled when she noted his gaze, and simply let him stare with an amused smirk on her face. 

“This is a different look for you.” he finally said, possibly just to stop from silently gawking. 

“Well, yes…” She smoothed down the front of the dress. “I thought it was appropriate.” The spaghetti-strap sundress was relatively simple- knee-length, cinched at the waist- but was a dark blue with a bright pattern of yellow sunflowers all over it. It was quite different from her normal wardrobe of dark colors, leather, and ripped denim. 

“ _Es ist wunderschön._ ” he breathed. He caught her gaze, and moved both hands to the sides of her face. “ _Du bist wunderschön. _”__   

She brought a hand up to pat the back of his. “It’s really nothing special. I got it from K-Mart for six dollars.” 

“And I’m sure _every other_  woman that bought it looks like she’s wearing a six-dollar dress from K-Mart…” 

Ororo sighed and shook her head slightly, causing him to drop his hands from her face to her shoulders. “Are we going to the garden, or are you just going to stare at me all day.” 

“I’m just going to stare at you all day.” he replied immediately. She gave him a pointed look. “Alright, fine. Let’s go.” 

******

 “Well, it’s certainly an impressive specimen.” the official from the County Fair commented as he packed away his measuring tools. “That said, it’s been an excellent year for sunflowers. You have some stiff competition, but I’d say this is definitely a contender.” 

“I’m glad to hear it, thank you.” Ororo replied with a polite nod as the official shook her hand and wished her good luck. 

Once the official had left, Ororo chatted with the journalist from the newspaper while the photographer milled about and snapped pictures. Kurt stood off to the side with Hank and Charles, looking almost as though he was using ‘boring, beige’ Hank as cover. 

“So what first interested you in gardening, Miss Munroe?” the newspaper journalist asked, pad of paper and pen in-hand. 

“Well, the village in Kenya where I spent most of my childhood was mostly farming-based. I always admired how the farmers always held the whole community together- keeping everyone happy and healthy and secure, seemingly making something from nothing…” she explained, her hands held at her waist. “Once I came here, the Professor offered to let me try and recreate that same feeling and share it with the students here. As you can see, I jumped at the opportunity.” She turned slightly and panned her hand over the expanse of her garden. The journalist nodded, impressed. 

“So you did all this yourself?” 

She smiled and laughed. “Oh, no! It would be too much for one person, with our schedules…I had a lot of help from my friend over there-” She pointed briefly towards Kurt. “The tall one with the red shirt.” 

“Um, the blue guy?” 

“Well, yes. His name is Kurt.”   

The journalist jotted a quick note and then motioned towards Ororo with his pen. “So, this is a mutant school-” 

“A school for gifted children, yes.” 

“So does it follow that you have a _gift_ of some sort?” The journalist lowered his notepad and waited expectantly. 

Ororo grinned and let her eyes go white, and moved both hands to gracefully, effortlessly generate the world’s smallest and most adorable rain cloud in the narrow space between her and the journalist. He took several steps back in disbelief. 

“Weather manipulation.” she said with a nod as she let the small cloud dissipate. 

“I, uh…I can see how that would come in handy…” he replied quietly, still apparently shaken. 

“Mostly when I’m too lazy to fetch my watering can!” 

The journalist nodded again, having composed himself somewhat. “And what about your friend?” 

“Oh! He is a teleporter.” 

“Uhh…” 

The photographer walked up alongside the journalist, apparently having noted his confusion. He stood, camera in-hand and shrugged at the journalist. Ororo smirked and turned to motion Kurt over to her. 

“That’s your cue, Kurt.” Hank muttered as he leaned back slightly. From behind him, Kurt shook his head. 

“You don’t know that. She could be asking for you.” he replied sheepishly. Hank crossed his arms and he and Charles both stared at Kurt until he sighed and finally teleported adjacent to Ororo’s position. 

The journalist gasped and took another step back. Kurt offered a friendly smile and thrust his right hand into the space between them. “ _Hallo_! It’s nice to meet you. Kurt Wagner.” 

The journalist stood, frozen, and gawked at the three-fingered hand in front of him. The photographer, apparently noting the awkward pause, cleared this throat and quickly moved to shake Kurt’s hand. “Hi! I’m, uh, Ted.” 

“That’s quite the accent.” the journalist stated, having apparently regained his bearings. 

“Um, _danke_? I am German.” 

“Oh? What part of Germany are you from?” 

“Ha! Well, all of it!” Kurt said with a smile, straightening his posture. When the journalist didn’t smile back, he hurried to explain, “I was raised in a travelling circus.” 

“Kurt was, in all likelihood, the best acrobat in the entire country.” Ororo interjected with an authoritative nod. Kurt grinned and looked down bashfully. 

“Which one? East or West?” the journalist pressed. 

“Whichever one he happened to be in at the time.” Ororo replied easily. 

“I was rescued from an illegal mutant fighting ring in East Berlin, but my circus was based out of Munich. If people ask, I tell them I am Bavarian.” Kurt explained. The journalist nodded and jotting down more notes. 

“And now you help Miss Munroe with her garden?” 

“ _Ja_. Just simple things mostly. Pull weeds, dig holes…” Kurt replied, motioning towards the garden. 

Ororo scoffed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “As well as tilling, sowing, fertilizing, watering, pest control…he also made me that trellis from scratch. I couldn’t have done it without his help.” 

Kurt looked down and laughed nervously. The journalist jotted a few more words and put his pad and pen away. “I think that about covers it. Did you get all the pictures we need?” 

Ted shrugged. “I got some good ones, but I’d like to get one of the sunflower that shows it’s size. It’s hard to get a perspective on something like that.” He picked up his camera from the strap around his neck and fiddled with the dials on the back, muttering “That giant butternut squash was so much easier…”   

“Umm…one second…” Kurt mumbled, before teleporting back to Hank’s side. “Doctor McCoy, do you have a measuring tape?” 

Hank scoffed “Of course! I always carry a spare.” He pulled the measuring tape out of his pocket. “You never know when something may need to be measured, or if someone else’s instruments are uncalibrated. Plus, this one has both metric and standard uni-” 

“ _Danke_! Be right back!” Kurt called out politely as he grabbed the measuring tape and teleported back to Ororo. “Here it is. Why don’t you just stand next to it, and hold this up?” 

She took the measuring tape out of his hand and turned questioningly towards Ted. “That could work.” he offered with a shrug. 

She walked over to the sunflower and unfurled the measuring tape, as if she were measuring the plant. She couldn’t reach high enough, though, so she placed the base of the measuring tape on the ground and tried to hold the metallic strip straight upwards alongside the flower. It flopped over before it reached the top. 

“Ugh, can’t it just-” she grumbled to herself until she had a sudden idea. “Kurt! Come here! I have a plan.” She retracted the measuring tape just as he teleported to her side. 

“Hmm?” 

“Pick me up.” 

“Sorry?” 

“Pick me up and put me on your shoulder like people do at the circus. Then I can hold the measuring tape all the way to the top of the plant, and you can hold the end down on the ground with your tail.” 

He wrung his hands and looked around nervously. “I don’t want to be in the newspaper, Ororo.” 

“Don’t be foolish! You look nice. The picture will look nice.” 

Kurt looked at his feet for a second with his arms crossed before muttering “Okay.” He got into position, gripped Ororo around the waist, and quickly picked her up high enough to sit her on his shoulder closes to the sunflower. He wrapped that arm around her legs to keep her secure, and handed her the measuring tape with the other. She held it up to the top of the flower while he secured the metal tab to the ground with his tail. 

“How’s this?” Ororo called out to Ted. 

“That’s, uh…actually, that’s great!” Ted responded, looking through his camera. He paused to adjust some dials on the back and move his position slightly. “Okay, now…hold it! And…smile! And…we got it! That’s perfect.” He turned to the journalist with a nod. “I think we’re done.” 

******

 “Can you hear me now?” 

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I can. Pretty clearly, too.” 

“Perfect!” 

Raven stood on once of the institute’s many balconies, overlooking the vast property as she turned the small electronic device over in her hand. The small, greyish device was smaller than a deck of cards and had only a few buttons, a speaker, and a microphone. It was the new communications equipment that Hank had asked her to help him calibrate. 

“So, like, where are you right now?” she spoke into the device while pressing the ‘talk’ button. 

“I’m out-” Hank’s voice from the device started to say, before he was swiftly interrupted. 

“And if you say you’re ‘outstanding in your field,’ I’m going to march out there, and you’ll be out standing in your duck pond!” 

“I, uh…I’m in the yard. About half a mile from your position.” he replied plainly after some hesitation. “I’ll head back up shortly.” 

Raven smirked to herself just as Erik walked up behind her. She acknowledged him with a smile and a nod. He noticed the small device in her hand, and gave her an intrigued glance. “Oh! One of Hank’s new toys. Some kinda fancy Walkie-Talkie, I dunno…” 

He nodded along and opened his mouth to say something, when he was interrupted by the sound of Hank’s voice from the device. “Sooo…Is Kurt nearby, by any chance? Could he give me a lift? I can walk back on my own if he’s busy, but if he’s around…” 

Raven rolled her eyes and groaned as Erik chuckled quietly. She braced her hands on the balcony railing and leaned over it, squinting into the distance. Close to the pool, she could see several X-Men eating lunch outside, with Scott and Kurt taking part in a not-at-all-serious two-man soccer game. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry Hank, he looks real busy…guess you’re on your own!” she spoke into the device, attempting to sound regretful. She noticed Erik’s raised eyebrow. “What?! People are supposed to get, like, ten thousands steps a day for good health or whatever.” 

“I don’t doubt it.” 

She turned to face him, leaning back against the railing and crossing her arms. “So what brings you here?” 

“I’m just giving you and Charles and update on that project I told you about last time. I’ve made some new developments.” 

“Hmm. Such as?” 

“My sources have indicated that a pattern of medical data theft has now been noted not only in mutants, but also in non-mutant parents and siblings of mutants.” 

“Oh. That doesn’t sound good.” 

“No, not at all. In addition, there have been a few solid links to a company that, on the surface, develops and manufactures pharmaceuticals for livestock. But, their purchasing history seems to suggest a strong genetics component to their research and development sector. I don’t think I have to tell you how dire the implications of this type of research are.” 

Raven furrowed her brow and shook her head, before shifting her stance on the railing. “So where do we come in?” 

Erik took a deep breath. “I’ve all-but narrowed down the location where the research findings and stolen medical data are being kept. Get me that data, and I’ll handle to rest.” 

“Pfft! ‘I’ll handle the rest’? Why? If it’s as important as you make it sound, let us help!” 

Erik glanced at her, and then away before crossing his arms. “I wouldn’t want you to get your hands dirty.” 

Raven groaned in exasperation and slumped. “Oh my God. We’re the X-Men. We can get our hands dirty if we need to. Maybe not as absolutely fucking filthy as you like to get yours, but we can get shit done.” 

Erik sighed and shook his head. “How about we get the data, and we’ll just agree to discuss it further?” 

Raven smiled and nodded once. “So, getting this data- what kinda security systems we talking? Armed guards? Retinal scans?” 

“Nothing like that, I’m afraid. It appears that they’ve been conducting their data analysis in a warehouse just outside Baltimore. Security appears to be minimal. Likely just pass codes. From the outside, it looks like a soft drink bottling company.” 

“Hmm…” Raven looked Erik up and down for a second, and then looked down drumming her fingers on her opposite arm. “So- obvious question: If everything is so simple and easy, why ask us for help at all? Why not just do it yourself?” 

“Um, well…” Erik looked away and scratched the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed. “Remember how important information used to just written down on paper? Well, now they have these digital _storage discs_ and, well _ _…”__      

“Oh my God!” Raven laughed, reveling in Erik’s discomfort. “You wreck the discs! You mess with the magnetic field and fry the discs!” 

Erik looked down with a flat expression. “Essentially yes.” Raven continued to laugh. 

After Raven finally stopped laughing and straightened up, she resolved to continue with their task at hand. “So, I feel like this is a job for me. I can just break out the usual-” She paused to transform into a pretty, young, blonde, professionally dressed lady. “because we both know I could talk my way into a nuclear power plant control room with a pencil skirt and an order of coffee. Or if that doesn’t work, I could hit them up with the ol’-” She paused again to change her appearance to that of a thirty-something, professionally dressed, clean-cut, boringly handsome, obnoxiously Caucasian man with a nice tie. “Cuz if it can get Ted Bundy out of police custody, it can get me into a damn file cabinet.” 

Erik nodded approvingly. “I’d also like to take Kurt, in case we need to get to the other side of a locked door.” Raven nodded, having changed back to her usual blue self. “And which one of them do you think is the best with computers?” 

Raven paused with her head down, fingertips on her chin. “Hmm. Probably Jean or Jubilee.” 

“Good. I can take either or both.” he replied with a small shrug. “That should be sufficient.” 

“So- me, Kurt, Jean, Jubilee, and Peter. Gotcha. No problem.” Raven said casually while inspecting her nails.   

“I don’t actually need Peter.” 

“I don’t give a fuck. You’re taking him.” she stated sternly, arms now crossed. Erik scoffed and pulled back. “I don’t care if you just get him to run around the perimeter every few seconds. I don’t care if he waits in the goddamned car! You’re taking him.” 

“I don’t see what business it is of yours.” Erik finally managed to stammer. 

“You don’t? Holy shit.” Raven threw her head back, briefly looking around her in exasperation. “For one- if there’s a mission and he isn’t allowed to come, he’ll _sulk_. For two- if that mission involves _you_ , he’ll sulk _extra-hard_  for _extra-long_. He’s very dramatic. He gets that from you, by the way.” Raven paused to point accusingly at Erik, who had crossed his arms and shifted his stance to endure her tirade. “For three- if you take Jubilee and not him, it’ll cause all manner of problems. They have some sorta ‘thing’ going on that I don’t completely understand, but the point is that I won’t have you starting _war_ in the _fucking camp_.” Erik rolled his eyes and shook his head. “And for four- if I have to hang out with my fucking annoying illegitimate adult son _all day_ , then you have to at least tolerate yours for a few hours. It’s the fucking _law_. Take him on the mission. Take him to fucking _Dairy Queen_  or some shit, while you’re at it. ****God****. Grow the _fuck up_.”    

Erik paused, looking down, for a few seconds before taking a breath. “Raven, this has been difficult for me.” 

Raven slumped and gave a long sigh, shaking her head slightly. “God. I know. Of course it has.” she said solemnly. She paused a beat and added quietly. “But I don’t think it’s exactly been easy on him either.” 

Erik stood silent with his head down before nodding. Raven reached out and placed a hand on his forearm. “Look, I know this isn’t how the whole ‘parenting’ thing is _supposed_ to go, but just give it a try. Give him a chance.” She paused until he looked up again. “I mean, yeah- he’s annoying and hyper and never shuts up, but he’s a decent guy and he just wants your attention.” 

“Of course you’re right. I owe him that, at least.” 

Raven smiled and patted his arm. “Yup. Plus, just think of it this way- from your perspective, he just magically showed up! You didn’t even have to do any of the dirty work. Some other chick took care of that. He’s a freebie!” 

Erik laughed for a second until his expression straightened. “Assuming his mother doesn’t try to get back child support…” 

“Pfft! Good luck with that!” 

They both chucked and Erik leaned back, crossing his arms and gesturing to Raven with one hand. “Speaking of good luck and owing child support…” he started, causing Raven to raise an eyebrow, “have you had any success tracking down Kurt’s foster mother?” 

“God, no.” Raven shook her head rapidly. “I mean, could _you_ find a petite middle-aged brunette woman in _all of Europe_? Likely in Germany, but could be any of the surrounding countries- or further, given that Kurt says she speaks at least six languages. Habitually nomadic. Known to use aliases. Maybe travelling with a young blonde woman. Or maybe not. It’s a fool’s errand.” 

“What of the circus she worked for?” 

Raven shrugged dramatically, letting her arms flop against her sides. “Dead end. She doesn’t work with them anymore, hasn’t for a few years.” She sighed and raked her hands back through her hair. “I don’t even know why I’m looking. I think all I want is just to make sure she knows that he’s okay. Because that’s all I would have wanted to know, all the years that she had him. That he was alive and not being, like, caged or tortured to death or something.” 

She gave another, far wearier sigh and stared off over the balcony. “And I can’t even let him know that I’m looking for her, because I’m afraid he’ll think I’m just trying to get rid of him. Again. And If I actually _do_ manage to find this woman, I’m afraid he’ll just go back with her. I really don’t know if I’d be okay with that. I mean, he’s a grown man and he can make his own decisions, so whatever, I guess? I don’t even know if he’s happy here. Like, I think he is? He acts like it, but I can’t say I know him at all. Like, I have no clue what goes on in his head. I feel like I’m less like a parent and more like I own a hamster. Like, look-” She paused her tangent and gestured towards where Ororo and Jean now played soccer while Scott and Kurt ate sandwiches. “he’s eating and moving around, so he must be okay.” 

Erik offered a sympathetic sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets. “It sounds to me like you’re over-thinking it.” 

Raven scoffed. “Ugh, probably. I mean, listen to me-” she started, leaning onto the balcony railing with her elbows. “Good thing I didn’t actually _raise_ him. Fuck, he’d be so _fucked up_.” 

Erik placed a hand on her shoulder. “Trust me. You would have figured it out.” 

“Pfft! You think?!” Raven laughed. “Did Charles never tell you about my goldfish graveyard? Nurturing things is _not_ my forte.” 

Erik laughed a little and opened his mouth to reply, until he was interrupted by the sudden commotion of a blue and furry Hank clamoring ape-like up the side of the building and onto the balcony, jumping into the space between Erik and Raven. 

“Oh, Erik! I didn’t know you’d be dropping by!” he said, giving Erik a friendly but probably too firm slap on the back. “What brings you here?” 

“Just giving Raven some updates on that situation I’ve been following.” Erik replied once the dust settled. Hank nodded amiably. A slightly awkward pause led to Erik pointing to the small metallic device that Hank now had clipped to his shirt pocket. “So…Raven tells me you’re working on a sort of Walkie-Talkie?” Too late, Erik can see Raven over Hank’s shoulder shaking her head and frowning, before moving her index finger across her throat quickly, silently begging him to shut up. 

Hank laughed and grinned, plucking the device out of his pocket. “A Walkie-Talkie? Please. Donald Hings wishes he could have come up with something with these capabilities. The advancements in signal isolation alone- not to mention encryption technology and range-of-use enhancements…in fact- if you want to get technical-” 

Erik, bewildered by the onslaught of technological mumbo-jumbo, nodded along while slowly backing up. Behind Hank, Raven inched towards the door, pointing in it’s direction while ignoring Erik’s pleading glance. “Yeah, guys, I, um…paperwork…” she muttered quietly before making a hasty exit. 

******

“Oh, I don’t know how I’m going to be able to wait until next month…” Ororo sighed, not having let go of Kurt after he teleported her back to her room so she could get ready for their afternoon Danger Room session. They had finished their early lunch with Scott and Jean, during which Ororo had found it hard to contain her excitement about being featured in the local newspaper and Summer Harvest festival. 

“It’s exciting, _ja_ , but I’m still hoping they go with a different picture…” Kurt muttered, slightly concerned. “We don’t want the locals thinking that your mutant power is summoning demons.” 

She laughed and gave him a slight swat on the chest. “No, we wouldn’t want that. I can’t have all the newspaper’s female readers bothering me to summon one for them, too.” She smiled and slipped her arms around his waist as he scoffed. “No, ma’am, I can’t just make you one. Yes, he’s cute, but he’s the only one, and he’s mine…” she fake-explained mockingly as she pressed him back against her desk and ran her hands up his sides. 

“I just don’t want to be a distraction.” he reiterated, smoothing both hands over her shoulders. “People should see the article and recognize your hard work, _meine Honigbiene_.” 

Ororo tilted her head with an amused look. “Your _what_ , sorry?” 

“Oh! Um, it means honey bee.” he explained with a shy smile, tracing his nail in a circle on her shoulder. “It’s because you’re sweet and you like plants.” 

She looked up at him warmly and threw her arms around his neck. “I do,” she replied, as she worked her fingers into his hair and pressed her body against his, “but I like you more.” 

They kissed gently at first, and then harder and needier when he wrapped his arms around her and snaked his tail around her calf. She leaned fully against him, and could easily tell that her attention was starting to have the desired effect. Unlike previous times, he didn’t try to move away from her- in fact, he slipped his hand down to her lower back and brought her closer. Feeling bold, she moved to rub the pointed shell of his ear between her thumb and fingers, smiling impishly when he twisted his head away, if only to laugh. 

“I love your ears…” she breathed in response to his amused, yet exasperated glance. 

“Well, my mother always told me they were my best feature.” he offered with a small nod as he ran his hands up and down her back. 

“I don’t know if I’d say that…” She glanced at him with a raised eyebrow for a split second before she gripped the hem of his shirt and started untucking it. “They’re on the list, but it’s long list…” 

“We, um…” he stammered quietly as she untucked the his button-up shirt and was making short work of the plain undershirt, “We don’t really have a lot of time…” 

“Oh, that’s fine.” she assured quickly. “We don’t need a lot of time.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she moved both hands under the material to feel the taut, heated flesh underneath. Any argument he may have had instantly dissipated. She tipped her head up to kiss him again, which they did, slow and deep, until she felt the coiled grip of his tail inch it’s way up her thigh. 

She moved one hand to nudge it back down with a small laugh. “Maybe later, but not right now.” 

He instantly complied and moved his tail back down, but studied her with a perplexed look. She rested her head against his chest with a contented sigh, wrapping one arm around his lower back and running the fingertips of the other hand teasing across his waistband. She peered up at him to assess his reaction and, sensing no apprehension, smoothed her hand over his flat, toned stomach before slipping her hand down past his waistband. 

He gasped and froze when he felt her wrap her fingers around him for the first time, his tail tightening around her leg and one hand moving to grip the edge of her desk. She touched him softly and curiously at first, simply exploring the shape of him until she paused and uttered a quiet “…Oh.” 

“Sorry?” he managed to respond. 

“Your ears _are not_  your best feature.” 

He chewed his lip and shrugged awkwardly, flustered as he was. “God’s generosity knows no bounds.” was the best explanation he could offer.   

She responded with a sly smile and tightened her grip on him, actually starting to stroke him in earnest. “And to think you were planning on keeping all this generosity to yourself.” His eyes fell shut and his head tipped back with a shallow gasp, so it came as a surprise when she slid down his body to her knees in front of him, and started undoing his belt buckle and pants. The hand that he had rested on her shoulder fell away passively, and he fidgeted briefly with the edge of the desk before running two trembling fingers through her hair. 

Once she finally freed him from his clothes, she glanced upwards and was glad to see that he still kept his eyes shut- meaning she could take a second to actually look at him without him getting embarrassed. As she slowly, gently worked her hand up and down the length of it, she came to realize how inadequate Jean’s second-hand appraisal of ‘mostly normal’ really was. The cock in her hand was beautifully proportioned and startlingly blue- even considering the rest of his body. Arousal had darkened it to a deep, inky hue, with the sole exception of the barest blush of pink around the tip. It throbbed with every heartbeat, and when she smoothed a drop of pre-cum over the head with her thumb, it twitched dramatically and he was barely able to stifle a moan. At that, she decided she had wasted enough time, and tipped forward to take as much of him in her mouth as possible. 

The pace she set was slow and steady, to try and make it last. Between his heavy breathing, she could faintly hear the wood on the underside of her desk splintering under the pressure of his grip. Soft moans he couldn’t quite suppress came more and more frequently, in time with the motion of her mouth, her tongue, and the twisting grip of her hand. Her free hand trailed over his khaki-clad thigh, causing her to silently curse every article of clothing he owned and reminding her that was so much she still wanted to see and touch and taste. The hand he wasn’t clinging to the desk with hung uselessly at his side, so she moved her hand over the back of it, entwining her fingers with his and moving it up to press into his abdomen. 

After what seemed like forever but also no time at all, the shaking tension of his body and increasingly ragged breathing told her it wasn’t going to be much longer. She moved faster and more forcefully, desperate to finish him off, wanting to hear what it did to him, needing him to know how it felt… 

“ _Du solltest aufhören _-__ ah _ _…”__ he choked suddenly, shifting slightly away from her _ _.__ She didn’t understand the words, but the tone was urgent and serious. She pulled back and watched him try and put words together. “I- it’s too much, um…” 

She smiled back, warm and reassuring, and resumed stroking him. “I know.” she stated, leaning close to him again. “That’s what it’s supposed to feel like.” 

She held his gaze exactly as long as it took to know that he finally understood. Then, she took him back into her mouth and resumed her previous pace as he threw his head back with a shuddering gasp. She was amazed he had been able to stop at all- it was clear that he was very, very close. After mere moments of her attention, he muffled a harsh groan by biting down on the side of his hand as she swallowed around his spasming cock. 

For an all-too-brief time after, they both paused to regain their bearings, her with the side of her head resting against his thigh, him softly raking his nails over her scalp and hair. Then, it was as if reality hit him all at once, and she watched with some amusement as he hurriedly fixed up his clothes. As soon as he had sorted himself out, his tail wrapped around her waist brought her back up to her feet, and he immediately grabbed both sides of her face and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss. 

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him back, knowing that he could probably taste himself on her mouth and finding it interesting that he either didn’t notice or care. When the kiss broke, he pulled her closer, hugging her tightly and burying his face in her shoulder. She gave him a squeeze before patting his chest. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” His laughing response was muffled by her shoulder. She brushed her knuckles across the side of his face briefly. “We do have that training session to get ready for, so…” 

He sighed regretfully into her neck and released her. He watched her cross the floor and start pulling a change of clothes out of her dresser drawers with his hands clutched together, clearly stalling. When she packed her things into her gym bag, he cleared his throat quietly. “I, um…” he finally began, as Ororo looked to him expectantly. “I was afraid to try something like that, because of what happened when Scott and Jean did that. I think if that happened, the embarrassment would have just killed me.”    

Ororo scoffed loudly and tipped her head back in frustration. “Really? Goddess, I wish you had told me that. I could have explained to you _ages ago_  how ridiculous that was.” 

Kurt held his hands up in defense. “Scott said it was a simple mistake that could happen to anyone.” 

Ororo stuffed her last article of clothing into her gym bag with annoyance at having been cockblocked by Scott, _again_. “Well, he’s wrong. It’s an absurd _series_ of mistakes that I didn’t even know was possible until Jean explained it to me.” When Kurt just shrugged wordlessly in response, she elaborated, “It’s like something that would happen if _The Three Stooges_  tried to have sex.” 

Kurt’s mouth dropped open and he furrowed his brow, staring silently at the floor for several seconds. Finally, he whispered “What a terrible mental image.” 

Ororo laughed at his discomfort and walked up beside him, smiling and fixing his collar playfully. “I have a way with words.” 

He pulled her closer with an arm over her shoulder and she could feel his breath ruffling her hair. “I’m telling Scott you said that.” he continued, clearly still disturbed but now with a hint of humor. 

“I wish you would.”  

******

 Peter sat cross-legged on the floor of the TV room, playing with the mansion’s resident dog. The portly little white creature wiggled and snorted in response to Peter ruffling it’s ears and rubbing it’s belly, which Peter continued to do with childlike amusement. 

Nearby, Ororo and Scott chatted idly on opposite couches while Jean flipped through the TV Guide, awaiting the start of their wrestling show. “Hey, Jean?” Peter asked suddenly, without looking up from the small chunky bulldog. 

“Hmm?”she responded, still looking at the TV guide. 

“Dumb question…” 

“No, I can’t read a dog’s mind.” 

“Huh. Disappointing.” 

“Yup.” 

Just then, Jubilee strode confidently past the TV room, presumably on her way to the mailbox, as was her evening routine. Ororo stood suddenly and walked quickly to catch up, tapping Jean’s shoulder as she moved past. Wordlessly, Jean tossed the TV Guide and followed. Scott paused in bewilderment and looked to Peter for elaboration. 

“Girl meeting.” Peter explained simply. Scott nodded and slumped back into the couch. 

 

Jubilee had just pulled an envelope out of her mailbox when the other two girls caught up with her. “Sup, guys! What’s happening?” she said cheerfully when Jean and Ororo came to a stop on either side of her. Jean shrugged and looked towards Ororo.    

“I wanted to let you both know that I finally completed the objective of the final bet.” Ororo explained plainly. 

“Yes!” Jean hissed while doing a fist-pump. “Pay up!” she added, thrusting her open palm towards Jubilee. 

Ororo looked down with a smile for a second before gesturing towards Jean. “Jean, you actually owe Jubilee this one.” 

“Ah! Fuckin’ knew it!” Jubilee cried, thrusting both arms victoriously in the air. Jean glared silently. “Shouldn’t have doubted me, Jean. I can spot a big dick from a thousand yards…” she rambled after Ororo tried to shush her. 

“But, like, are we _sure_ , though?” Jean started skeptically. “I mean, we agreed on this bet, but we never settled on the _parameters_ \- like, are we comparing to a _statistical average_ , or just whatever guys you’ve been with before? Because-”   

“I’d like to respect his privacy, so I’ll only say that it’s now very clear why he insists on believing in a loving and merciful God.” Ororo said tactfully. 

Jean was undeterred. “I mean, I’d like to just take your word for it, ‘Ro, I really would, but-” 

“Jean, my jaw now has a click in it that was never there before.” 

“Whoa, jeez, okay- too much information!” Jean reeled back with both hands up. 

“For real, Jean? Who was it that woke us all up in the middle of the night to help her clean cum out of her eye?” Jubilee interjected with her arms crossed. Jean scowled with a huff. Jubilee responded by smiling and holding her open hand out to Jean, pointing to her palm insistently with the other hand.   

Jean shrugged and shook her head in annoyance. “I don’t have any cash on me right now. I’ll have to get you back later.” 

“Ugh, come on!” Jubilee complained. “I have some change, just give me the ten that ‘Ro gave you for the oral sex thing, and I’ll give you five back.” 

“Okay, so, first of all- that was __weeks ago__. I would have spent that by now. Second, I didn’t actually make ‘Ro give me ten bucks.” 

Jubilee gasped. “What the fuck! Why not! I’ve been paying up all this time!” 

Jean gave her hair a toss. “Jubes, ‘Ro basically challenged me to have the best orgasm of my life. I’m gonna make her give me ten bucks on top of that, it’d be weird.” Jubilee scoffed indignantly. Jean continued. “You and I made a bunch of bets about guys I don’t wanna fuck and dicks I’m never gonna see. Of course you gotta pay up when I’m right. Just like _I’ll_ pay up once I get the money.” 

“Uuuuuggghhh…” Jubilee groaned, but declined to argue further. She quickly perked up and gave Ororo’s shoulder a shake. “So we are gonna need some _details_ , girl. How big we talkin’? Like, ‘Sex-Ed cucumber’ big?” 

Ororo gasped with her hand to her chest. “Goddess, no! Nothing to that extreme. Something like that, I wouldn’t actually want to see in real life!” Jean frowned and nodded in agreement. 

“I dunno…” Jubilee mused. “I think I’d like to see it, but, like, from a distance. Maybe from across the street. Close enough to say that I saw it, but far enough away that I don’t actually have to _experience_ it.” Jean and Ororo looked at her in silent amusement. “Like a tornado! I’d love to see one from a mile away, but I don’t actually want one in my house.” 

Jean shook her head with a smile while Ororo placed a hand on Jubilee’s shoulder and started guiding her back to the TV room. “If you want a tornado, Jubilee, you just need to say the word. I can get you a tornado. Now, we’d better get back before we miss our wrestling program.” Jubilee beamed with her hands clenched in excited fists while Jean rolled her eyes _again_.    

 

The girls made their way back to the TV room just as Scott set the proper channel and Kurt sat down in the middle of the couch with the large bowl of popcorn he had made. Ororo sat on one side of him, while Jubilee leapfrogged over the back of the couch and bounced into the seat on his other side. 

“Hey, look! My favorite person!” she announced as she stuffed a massive fistful of popcorn in her mouth while Kurt and Ororo laughed. 

“Uh, yeah. Hi.” Peter said flatly from the floor. The chubby little dog seemed startled by the commotion and waddled away. Jubilee shot him a sideways glance and a smirk and scooted closer to Kurt, freeing enough space for Peter to sit next to her. 

He appeared instantly in the space next to her with his arm thrown over the back of the couch where she sat. He watched with interest as she tore open the envelope she had gotten from the mailbox and pulled out a written letter and two Polaroid photos. She immediately handed the face-down Polaroids to him and started skimming through the letter. This had become something of a habit for them- Jubilee’s parents wrote regularly and often sent pictures, which she would eagerly share with him. Peter couldn’t explain why it interested him so much, but he often found himself looking forward to it. 

This time, though, when he flipped the two pictures over, he reeled back at what he saw. “Fuckin’ sick! Your parents got a possum in their attic or some shit! _Christ _…__ ” The snaggle-toothed, bug-eyed, gaunt and mangy creature stared back from the Polaroids. Peter cringed and continued to ramble. “I mean, like, do they want me to run you home so you can blast the shit out of that thing? Seems like your powers might come in handy right now.” 

“Peter…” Jubilee started, trying to redirect his attention, “that’s Mittens.” 

“ _What the fuck!_ ” Peter cried shrilly, and pulled the pictures away when Jubilee reached for them. “ _That’s_ a _cat_?! Un- _fucking_ -believable.”   

“Give it back!” she demanded as he continued to hold the pictures out of her reach. 

“That’s not a cat, it’s some freaky Jim Henson puppet!” Peter laughed as he and Jubilee struggled. Everyone else in the room had stopped chatting and watched the exchange uncomfortably. It was clear that Peter was enjoying it much more than Jubilee was. 

In desperation, Scott grabbed the remote and cranked up the TV volume as the wrestling announcements started. Ororo caught his drift. “Oh, look! It’s starting!” Ororo stated to no-one, far louder than she normally would. “We had better pay attention or we might miss something!” 

“There’s no way you used to sleep in the same house as this thing!” Peter continued with a laugh, completely ignoring his teammate’s attempts to redirect him and Jubilee’s unamused demands. “It looks like it fucking eats souls!” 

“You’ve had Mittens your whole life, right?” Jean asked Jubilee, in another attempt to defuse the situation. 

“Oh, longer!” Jubilee said emphatically, momentarily distracted from her struggle with Peter. “When my parents first got married, they had a hard time starting a family. On their second anniversary, Dad walked by a cardboard box of free kittens on the street, and brought one home on impulse because he didn’t want Mom to be lonely anymore. I was born about a year after that.” 

“Aw…” Kurt cooed, “that is a lovely story, Jubilation.” Jubilee smiled warmly in response. 

Peter scoffed. “So the fact that your mom didn’t scream and run away means it didn’t always look like that…” 

“Well, _duh_ , Peter. He’s over two decades old.” Jubilee snapped. “And the only reason my parents sent me those pictures is because he’s, like, _slowing down_  and he has a vet appointment on Wednesday and they wanted me to see him in case he’s not around next time I go home, because he’s not _doing well_  and-” 

“What?! Did they feed it after _fucking midnight_  or something?” Peter interrupted with a snarky grin. 

Several gasps were heard and the rest of the team froze and exchanged uncomfortable glances while Jubilee glared into Peter’s face with a stony expression and anger radiating off her. 

“Go fuck yourself, Peter.” she spat, before jumping off the couch and marching up the hallway. 

Peter gawked at her leaving for a split second, the Polaroids having fallen out of his hands. He tried to go to her, but found himself restrained by a hand on his bicep. 

“Don’t follow her, man.” Scott said plainly, having apparently anticipated Peter’s course of action while Jubilee was still in sight.    

“What? Why not, what’s the big deal?” Peter demanded, looking around at the shocked and bewildered faces of his teammates. 

“You were a bit of a dick.” Kurt muttered quietly. Peter pulled back with a gasp. 

“See? You made Kurt use the D-word. That should put things into perspective for you.” Jean explained calmly. 

“Did you not see how upset she was getting?” Ororo added, gesturing in the direction that Jubilee took to leave. “Did you not notice us trying to redirect the conversation?” 

“Guys! It was a fucking joke!” Peter shouted, throwing both hands up in frustration. 

“Didn’t hear her fucking laughing, Peter.” Scott replied, shaking his head and still gripping Peter’s arm. “She loves that cat. Everyone knows that.” 

Peter wrenched his arm out of Scott’s grip and rubbed his face wearily. “Okay, fine. I’ll just go right now and tell her I was just kidding, and then we can all go back to watching wrestling. Sound good?” 

“No!” everyone else shouted in unison. 

“If I know Jubes- and, like, _I do_ \- if you get in her face when she’s still mad and spout some ‘I’m sorry you feel that way’ bullshit, she might actually set you on fire. Or blow you up.” Jean explained carefully. Peter stared back in dismay. 

“You should give her some time to cool down before you risk angering her further.” Ororo added. Peter became even more distressed. 

Kurt gestured towards Ororo in agreement. “An _actual_ apology would probably be helpful, as well.” Ororo and Jean nodded. Peter frowned intensely.   

Peter stood in agitation and stared up the hallway where Jubilee had left, clenching and unclenching his fists. His mind raced with possibilities, most unpleasant, and boggled about how to deal with a problem he couldn’t run to or from. Mostly, he just wallowed in the sinking feeling that accompanied the knowledge that he had inevitably fucked things up for himself, _again_.   

“Hey-” Scott interjected, leaning over to give Peter a small pat on the shoulder. “Good thing you guys aren’t actually in a relationship, otherwise you’d probably be really upset right now.” 

******

 “Kurt, bro, I appreciate the hug and all, but you’re not actually making me feel any better.” 

“Peter, we are not hugging. I have been restraining you for the past ten minutes.” 

Peter was stretched out on the couch with Kurt mostly wrapped around his back, holding Peter’s limbs immobile with his own. 

“Oh. Cuz, like, if you don’t let me go soon, _one of us_  is gonna get a boner, and then it’s gonna be really weird.” 

Kurt instantly teleported to the other couch between Scott and Jean, both hands held up in surrender. 

Peter smirked at his minor victory and sat himself up, only to have Scott move closer to him. “We’re still not gonna let you go talk to her until-” Scott explained authoritatively, thrusting his wristwatch into Peter’s face and tapping the dial, “the _big hand_  is on the _four_.” 

Peter groaned and rolled his eyes, head tipping back in exasperation as he slumped deeper into the seat cushion. On the opposite end of the couch, Ororo perked up and turned to sit cross-legged, facing him. She reached out to tap his shoulder. “While you wait, did you want to practice what you’re going to say?” He shrugged and sighed, turning to face her. “Great! I’ll start. Pretend I’m Jubilee.” Ororo shifted slightly on the couch and cleared her throat before addressing Peter again. “Peter, when you said those things about my cat today, you really hurt my feelings. I wish you were more considerate.” she said diplomatically, with her hands pressed together. The other three waited with baited breath for Peter’s response. 

Peter shrugged dramatically, letting his hands flop back into his lap. “’Kay, this is dumb. I can’t take this seriously. Jubes would never say that.” 

Ororo straightened up and crossed her arms. “Well, what should I say instead?” 

“Just say that I’m an asshole.” 

“You’re an asshole…?” Ororo responded skeptically. Peter nodded along. 

“And you’re…” Jean pressed, gesturing towards Peter. 

“An asshole. Yeah.” he confirmed, nodding emphatically. 

“No! ****Sorry****! You’re _sorry_! God!” Jean cried, as a series of frustrated groans and scoffs were heard throughout the room. 

“You know what? Fuck this. This is pointless.” Peter stood suddenly and straightened out his clothes. “You guys don’t know Jubes like I do. I’m just gonna go tell her I fucked up and we’ll both be back down before the Intercontinental Championship match. Just you fuckin’ wait.” 

He then sped out of the room before anyone could stop him. 

 

Peter ran to Jubilee’s door and immediately started knocking it incessantly. After what was -to him- an eternity, the knob finally turned and Jubilee flung the door open with still-palpable anger. 

Peter attempted a friendly smile and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Oh, hey! So, like, I mighta been a bit of a dick earlier, and-” 

“Thought I told you to go fuck yourself?” she interrupted with intensity, after looking him up and down in agitation. 

“Well, yeah, but-” 

“Did you do that?” she demanded while staring him down. 

“What? Um, _no_ , but-”   

“Better get on it.” she said flatly before slamming the door hard.   

 

Peter zipped back to the TV room and stood anxiously, frowning and fidgeting with his shirt. 

“That was quick. How’d it go?” Scott asked, despite already knowing the answer. 

“Um, she’d still on the whole ‘go fuck myself’ thing…” Peter explained, trying to sound casual. All four of his friends groaned in frustration. 

Jean sighed and leaned forward on the couch, propping her elbows on her knees and grasping her hands together. “Peter, _please_. Just back off. You’re gonna make it worse. Give her some space.” Everyone else murmured in agreement. 

“No!” Peter exclaimed, his face screwed up in indignation. “I’m not gonna just sit here and let her get _used_ to hating me. I’m gonna _fix it_  while it’s still _fixable_.” 

“That’s _real stupid_ , Peter.” Jean stated flatly. 

“I know it’s stupid and I’m doing it anyways!” he called out defiantly, nanoseconds before rushing away before anyone could argue further. 

 

Peter appeared, yet again, in front of Jubilee’s door. This time, it took even longer for his rapid, ceaseless knocking to result in the knob turning. Jubilee opened the door only about four inches, and was not at all surprised to see Peter standing with his hands in his pockets, tilting his head to see her through the narrow opening. 

She sighed wearily. “This better be goo-” 

“I’m sorry!” Peter blurted. “I apologize. I’m fuckin’ sorry.” 

Jubilee scowled. “No, you’re not!” 

“Huh?” 

She scoffed. “You’re not sorry. You’re just saying what you think you __have to__  say because you got bored of the consequences your actions had.” 

Peter gave a small, indignant shrug. “Isn’t that all an apology ever is?” 

Jubilee groaned loudly and moved to slam the door, but found that Peter quickly grasped it, preventing it from closing. 

“You’re playing a _dangerous fucking game._ ” she spat. He instantly moved his hand from the door, and held them both up in a brief show of compliance. She looked him over for a second, her anger somehow shifting into profound disappointment. She huffed a quiet breath and looked away. “Like, _I get_ that you think the things I care about are stupid. I just wish that you could respect that _I don’t_  think they’re stupid.” 

Peter stared silently in response for long enough that Jubilee lowered her gaze and began to push the door closed again. This time, just before it latched shut, a loud and sudden noise emanated from Peter’s direction, shocking her. 

She threw the door back open and stared at him in bewilderment. “Did you just…fucking _bark at me_?” 

He pulled back slightly with small, tentative smile. “Oh, shit, sorry! That ran together a bit. Get your coat.” 

“Huh?” She stood with the door wide open now, clearly puzzled. 

“So basically, I’m saying that this is why I’ve never been in a relationship that lasted longer than two months. Some day, I might stop saying everything that pops into my head- because I’m obviously _not that fucking funny _-__  but clearly today was _not that day._ What’s worse is that I can’t always tell when I’m upsetting people- their expressions change too slow, it’s like how you can’t sit there and watch the leaves change color. So I’m locked into this cycle of meeting people, pissing them off, meeting _new_ people, and then pissing _them_ off. And it’s not that I’m _not_ sorry, or that I think the things you like are stupid- it’s the opposite. The fact that you have the balls to love things as hard as you do is one of the things I like most about you. And apologizing every time I fuck up is gonna start to ring a little hollow after a while, because I’m probably just gonna be a jackass until I die. Plus I know you know that words are fucking cheap and won’t take back what I said- but what I _can_ do is take you to your parent’s house so you can actually see your cat in person while he’s still alive and hopefully in a more flattering light. So get your coat. That’s what I was saying.” He stopped his rapid speech with one hand on his hip, the other drumming the door frame, waiting for a reaction. 

“You…” she finally said quietly, “could do that? You know my parents live in California, right?” 

He gave a casual shrug and tossed his hair. “I mean, yeah- it’ll take a little while and we’ll have to stop for snacks a few times, but sure.”     

Jubilee looked around her room, trying to contain her quickly building excitement. “When could we go? I haven’t seen my parents in over six months…” 

“Now, or whenever. You can give them a call or whatever to make sure they’re home and awake and stuff. I don’t know the timezone math…” 

“It’s just after suppertime in California.” 

“Oh, well, that’s perfect!” Peter said with a grin, pulling down his goggles. He held out his hand, and when Jubilee grasped it, he pulled her close. “Next stop, Beverley Hills and one fuck-ugly cat!” 

“Watch it!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is a line from the 1985 song "Take On Me" by A-Ha. Awesome song.  
> I'm very pleased with myself for putting in a Gremlins reference *pats own shoulder*.  
> Note: Next chapter will also feature some sexual content. In a separate section, it will also contain that Dadneto content I promised a million years ago!


	31. Shout, Shout- Let It All Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter meets with his father. Scott and Jean have breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. Here is that Dadneto section I promised eons ago. Also included is a decent amount of gossip and sexual content.

“So, we were just killin’ time and Kurt starts bouncing a soccer ball with his head- he said that’s normal, but he might have just been making that up…” 

“If a European tells you something about soccer, it might be best to just take their word for it.” 

“Anyway, it sounded fake, but Jubes is all like ‘Ooh, I wanna try!’ so he’s showing her how to do _that_ …” 

Peter and Erik sat in a booth of a local twenty-four-hour diner, chatting about the everyday goings-on at Xavier’s School for Gifted Children. Erik had finally taken up on Raven’s suggestion/demand that he put more effort into getting to know his son. Rather than wrack his brain over what to actually say to Peter, he found it was much easier to just let Peter’s complete inability to tolerate quiet override the conversation, and thus had spent the last forty-five minutes mostly listening to Peter run a commentary on every remotely interesting thing that has happened since he started living at the mansion. The only drawback was that Peter was hesitant to talk about himself, preferring to ramble about the people he knew.    

“So I’m just doing whatever, and out of nowhere Jubes starts screaming- I guess what happened is that she accidentally headbutted Kurt instead of the ball, and he fell and, like, teleported away before he even hit the ground? So now he’s _somewhere_ and Jubes is freaking out cuz, like, have __you__  ever hit someone so hard they _exploded_?” Peter pauses for a reaction, having become more animated as the story went on. 

Erik chuckled and shook his head. “No, I can’t say that I have.” 

“So ‘Ro is trying to calm Jubes down- um, you remember Ororo, right?” 

“Yes, I remember Storm.” 

“Kay. Right. So I go try to find Kurt- he’s not far. He’s just in the locker room, standing over the sink. His nose is bleeding a little and is, like, kinda wonky but he swears he’s fine so I go to tell the rest of them that, but Scott’s all like ‘I’m getting Hank!’ and I’m like ‘Don’t get Hank!’ but off he goes…” 

Peter pauses only to grab the sugar pourer, and shakes it incessantly into his coffee when it proves to be empty. It was full when they first sat down, but that’s beyond the point. Erik spared a quick glance at the diner’s other glassy-eyed patrons and discretely used his powers to snag the full sugar pourer from the next table. 

Peter’s face lit up. “Sweet, thanks!” Erik shrugged and watched Peter pour an absurd amount of sugar into his coffee. “So I go to check on Jubes- but Jean and ‘Ro got that situation handled so I go back to the locker room just as Hank and Scott are getting there. I’m like ‘Can I do anything?’ and Kurt asks me to get him a spoon. I figure maybe he’s queasy and wants a snack or whatever, so I’m off to the kitchen…” 

“Oh. I see where this is going.” Erik commented with a frown.    

“Oh, um…” Peter looked down awkwardly. “I guess you can probably figure out the rest, then.” 

“No, no- keep going. I want to hear you tell it.” Erik assured. “I just remember watching people set a broken nose with a spoon handle, when I was young and there wasn’t access to medical care.” 

Peter laughed a little and leaned back with his arms crossed. “Perfectly qualified medical doctor, standing right there…” he said, shaking his head in recollection. “But anyways. I didn’t know about the spoon thing, so I turn up with a spoon and a freakin’ _pudding cup_ , because I am a _genius_ -” 

Erik cracked a smile. “Your heart was in the right place.” 

Peter grinned involuntarily and continued. “So I get back into the locker room, and now Kurt’s still at the sink, Hank’s, like, arguing or negotiating with him, and Scott’s, like, _supervising_ or something? I dunno. So I’m just like ‘Here’s your spoon, dude!’ and Kurt takes it, all polite and stuff, and just ****jams****  the handle up his nose and straightens that shit right out! And it was ****loud**** , too- made this _sick_ fuckin’ crunch!” 

Erik tried to suppress a laugh by frowning and shaking his head. But Peter wasn’t nearly done. “So now Hank’s freaking out, all like ‘I told you not to do that!’ and I’m standing there like ‘So, anyone want this pudding, or…’ but here’s the best part!” Peter paused, motioning both hands towards the center of the table, leaning in. “Scott fucking _fainted_ , hit his head on the sink and needed stitches! Good thing Hank was there after all.” 

They both burst into laughter, after which Erik sighed. “Some things never change. Scott’s brother was a lot like that. I remember him getting lightheaded when someone decided to watch a wildlife documentary about hyenas.” 

Peter smiled. “Pfft, no kidding?” Erik nodded once. “So anyway, long story short- Kurt begs me not to tell Jubes what happened, cuz he doesn’t want her to feel bad. So all the while poor Hank has to patch up _those two idiots_ , I go back out to the girls to construct an _elaborate lie_ about what we were all up to and why the other three aren’t coming out of the locker room right now. ‘Ro and Jean are just, like, shaking their heads the whole time, they see right through it. But Jubes hangs on every word- that was like a year ago, and _to this day_  she has no idea!”   

They laugh again, and a brief window of silence falls between them. Erik picks at the paper napkin under his coffee cup and decides that if he ever wants to know anything about his son, he had better act fast before Peter started another story. 

“So- ‘Jubes’ is Jubilee, correct?” Erik asked innocently, remembering what Raven had mentioned about Jubilee and Peter. 

“Yup! Jubilation Lee- kinda a weird name, I guess. Her parents had a hard time having kids, so I think they were pretty happy to have her, so just went with their gut on the whole ‘name’ thing…” Peter had automatically started rambling again. 

“Most of your stories come back to her in some way.” 

Peter froze for a split second and leaned back in his booth. “Well, yeah. Jubes is _great_. She’s funny, she’s cool- hey, check this out!” Peter leaned to the side to dig something out of his pocket, pressed between the folded halves of his wallet. It was a slightly tattered Polaroid, which he handed across the table to Erik. “This is from a couple weeks back. Her cat was doing pretty bad, so I offered to run her home for a bit so she could see him before he, you know-” Peter grimaced and quickly moved his finger across his throat while making a ‘squick’ noise. “I was just gonna dick around elsewhere while she visited with her parents and all that, but she insisted I come in and meet everyone…” 

Erik took the picture and poured over the details. A middle-aged couple, ostensibly Jubilee’s parents, stood smiling in the background. Jubilee stood in front of them, also smiling and gripping Peter’s bicep with both hands and leaning towards him. Peter stood holding a gnarled and ancient-looking creature in his arms, with a stricken look on his face and perhaps a few shades paler than usual. 

“Uh, that’s a _cat_ , by the way. Mittens.” Peter stated, reaching across the table to tap on the center of the Polaroid. Erik furrowed his brow and nodded solemnly. 

“You- hmm.” Erik started, and then paused to collect his words. “You look _very uncomfortable_  in this picture.” 

Peter propped his head up with his elbow on the table, his mouth mostly obscured by his fist. He nodded in response to Erik’s statement. “I, uh…didn’t know cats could produce that much mucus…” 

Erik frowned and handed the picture back to Peter, who put it back in his pocket. 

“She totally made me take that picture. Payback for sayin’ her cat was ugly.” Peter explained. 

“So, what is she to you?” Erik asked suddenly. 

Peter let his mouth hang open for a few seconds, caught off-guard. “I don’t know. We hang out a lot. She’s…” He looked down in recollection, chewing his lip as he thought. “I think she’s my best friend.”   

Erik raised an eyebrow. “That’s it?” 

Peter scoffed and tilted his head. “What do you mean ‘That’s it?’? That’s a lot!” 

Erik shrugged. “It’s just a little surprising. You talk about her a lot. You’ve met her parents. You carry a picture of her around with you…” 

“Yeah, but that’s just because she told me I should keep it on me as a _joke_ , and I figure she’ll get a laugh out of it when she finds out I actually did!” 

Erik briefly held his hands up. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken. It’s just that Raven _implied_ that there might more of a _physical_ aspect to you and Jubilee’s relationship…” 

Peter gave a casual shrug and scratched behind his ear. “Well, yeah. There’s that. It’s not like it’s a secret.” 

Erik nodded, but remained otherwise silent and mostly expressionless. This had the desired effect of making Peter uncomfortable, forcing him to elaborate. “Look, I know what you’re thinking-” Peter leaned back from the table with his hands held up. “I know you’re, like, not supposed to bang your best friend. But-” 

Peter immediately stopped talking when he was interrupted by Erik’s sudden burst of laughter. “Of course you can. That’s called a wife.” 

Peter pulled back, stammering. “Whoa! Okay, like, back up! It’s not like that, like, _at all,_ so-” 

Erik shrugged. “Why not?” 

“It just isn’t!” Peter exclaimed. “She’s, like, a nice girl. From a nice family.” 

“I’ve never heard that as a reason _not_ to date someone.” 

“Well, it is when you’re me. I’m kinda a hot mess, in case no one told you. And then there’s the fact that she’s _nineteen years old_!” Peter rambled with increasing exasperation. 

“If that’s your best excuse, then it’s a weak one. My mother was eighteen when I was born.” Erik added calmly. 

“Yeah, but, like, people used to be a lot older when they were younger.” Peter argued, jabbing the tabletop with his finger. Erik furrowed his brow in confusion. “That made sense and you know it.” Peter stated, folding his arms. 

“All I’m saying is that you’re not getting any younger, Peter, and-” 

“ _Shit_. Did Mom get to you? Did she put you up to this?” Peter accused, moving his hands about and glancing around the diner. “Was there some kinda ‘I’ll forgive the decades of no child-support if you convince him to make me a grandkid’ bargain between you two? Are you in cahoots now?”   

“What? No!” Erik insisted. “I haven’t seen or spoken to your mother in…how old are you?” 

“I’ll be twenty-eight in a few months.” 

“So that long, plus nine months.” 

“Gross.” Peter said flatly. “Plus, Jubes hates kids anyways, so it’s a dumb plan.” 

“There’s no plan! And no one said anything about children!” Erik replied, his exasperation quickly becoming equal to Peter’s. Peter opened his mouth and pointed across the table to form some sort of rebuttal, but quickly changed his mind when the waitress came by to refill their coffees for possibly the dozenth time. They both thanked her politely and when she left, Erik sighed. “Look, I’m not trying to tell you how to live your life. I don’t have the right to do that. But can you answer me this one question?” 

Peter glanced away and shook his head slightly before huffing a quiet “Fine.” 

“If something very interesting, something strange and noteworthy were to happen right now- say, for example, a giraffe were to walk down the street- who would be the first person you would want to tell about it?” 

Peter glanced out the diner’s window, apparently imagining the spectacle of a rogue giraffe. He screwed his face up in consideration. “Um, probably Animal Control.”   

Erik raised an eyebrow and stared at him incredulously. 

“Okay, fine. I’d definitely have to tell Jubes. She’d have something awesome to say about it, for sure.” 

Erik nodded and looked down, turning his coffee cup around and around between his hands. “Hmm. When I was living in Poland and working at the steel mill, there was a young woman who worked at the bakery I often bought lunch at. After weeks of seeing her daily, we got to chatting. Just simple, every-day things. Movies. The weather. Funny things that happened at work. After a time- far, far too much time- I realized that she was basically the highlight of my day. No matter what went on, no matter how mundane everything was, my biggest concern was seeing her and telling her about it, and having her tell me about hers. I had fallen in love with her, and I hadn’t even noticed. About six months after that, we were married.” 

Peter had taken to folding his napkin into smaller and smaller squares, unsure of what to say. 

Erik shifted to move his coffee cup to the side, and set his hands, clasped together, on the tabletop. “Peter, I am a man with many regrets. I have made many mistakes. But nothing haunts me more than time. Wishing I had said or done things sooner, cursing the things I took for granted because _I thought I had more time_ …I know, with the way your powers work, it seems like you have more time to do things than anyone else has ever had. Like time just doesn’t apply to you. But when it comes to the time you have with the people around you, you’re the same as everyone else. And it’s not long enough. It never is.” 

Peter took a deep breath. “I see what you’re trying to say, and I get it, but me and Jubes are friends. We’re fine being friends.” 

Erik shrugged. “I was fine seeing my wife at the bakery on my lunch break.”    

Peter nodded slowly and stared into his coffee. Erik sighed and picked his coffee cup back up. “Peter, I would give anything to have had more time with my family-” He gestured across the table at Peter, causing him to look back up. “and that includes you. When I think of all the years I didn’t know about you, and then all the time I _wasted_ by not reaching out when I _did know_ , because I was too busy wallowing in my own misery to actually try to know you…” 

Peter leaned back from the table and held up his hands, caught off-guard by the sudden confession. “Look, it’s fine. Really. I’m- Like, I coulda tried harder, too. You don’t owe me an explanation or anything.” 

“No, I do. I really do.” Erik stated intensely. “I think -in some selfish way- I had convinced myself I was protecting you, by keeping you at a distance.” he explained in a softer tone, before looking down and muttering, almost guiltily, “I can be a difficult man to know.” 

Peter had had about as much seriousness and he could physically tolerate. “Welp!” he announced, clapping his hands together once. “You’ll find I’m not always a barrel of monkeys either. At least you don’t have to worry about signing my permission slips or teaching me how to shave.” 

“Oh? I’d better not hear anything from Raven about you getting detention.” 

“Ha. Funny.” Peter said plainly. “But that does remind me…” He pulled something out of his jacket pocket in an near-instant flurry, and held it across the table to Erik. “Happy belated Father’s Day.” 

Erik frozen with his mouth open, staring at the small brown-paper-wrapped box. “Peter, I- you didn’t have to get me anything. Thank you.” 

Peter laced his hands together on the table and smirked while watching Erik start opening the package. “Yeah, maybe just open it before you start with the declarations of gratitude.” 

As the wrapping paper was removed and Erik started working on the cardboard box underneath, Peter started to explain, “So, basically, I had no idea what to get for a Father’s Day present, on account of not having to get one before, so I just asked Scott and Jubes for pointers.” Peter paused to down the last of his coffee as the waitress cycled around again for refills, and started pouring sugar into his fresh cup.        

Erik finally opened the cardboard box and removed a green glass bottle, which he examined with fascination. 

“So they agreed that the traditional Father’s Day gift is either an ugly tie or cheap cologne. And, like, all the ties I could find were, like, way too classy. Fortunately, Scott was able to hook me up with some cologne he had bought for a special occasion but never actually used…”   

“Well, that’s very thoughtful.” Erik commented pleasantly while unscrewing the cap. Once it was off, he held to nozzle up to his face, but quickly recoiled with his eyes clenched shut. “What _is_ that?!” he blurted harshly. 

“It’s a tradition!” Peter declared. “Happy Father’s Day!” 

Erik tried to nod while discretely clearing his throat and blinking hard. “My eyes are watering.” he croaked. 

“Yeah, that should stop in about an hour.” Peter assured. He pointed towards the green bottled. “And, like, it’s not a total loss. It could have some kinda purpose. You could totally spray that on people you hate. If you lit it on fire, it would probably explode.” 

Erik finally managed a half-smile while packing the bottle back into the box it had came in. “I’ll treasure it always.” 

“Great!” Peter grinned. “And, like, just so you know- my birthday is in a couple of months and I’m definitely _not_ saying you have to get me something, but I definitely _am_ saying I never learned how to ride a bike, so…” 

******

In the mansion’s quiet breakfast nook, Jean spread a healthy portion of raspberry jam on her toast while Scott poured milk over his plain corn flakes. Jean shook her head with a smile. 

“Variety is the spice of life, Scott. Throw some banana slices or a sugar cube or something in there, jeez…” 

“What? It’s part of a balanced breakfast. I have orange juice.” he insisted, pointing at the cereal box with his spoon. Jean rolled her eyes, but laughed when he reached over to bite the corner off one of her toast pieces. 

In the kitchen, seated at the island, Ororo and Kurt were hunched over several pieces of paper, planning out the changes they intended to make to the garden for next year. It was apparently quite a task, requiring rulers, a collection of colored pencils, and a few books on horticulture. They spoke among themselves in hushed tones, oblivious to the world around them and also to the fact that Scott was now staring at them. 

“I swear to God- now that they’re dating, they do the exact same shit they always did, they just sit closer together while they do it…” Scott eventually stated, unprompted.   

Jean shrugged and swallowed a mouthful of toast. “Well, that’s not really a bad thing. Life is ninety-five percent mundane stuff. Why go for a story-book romance when all any of us really needs is someone to do chores and watch TV with?” 

Scott nodded appreciably. “So, instead of ending with ‘And they lived happily ever after,’ fairy tales should end with ‘And then they ordered a pizza and didn’t fight over the toppings. The end.’” 

Jean smirked and looked at him with raised eyebrows. “Fairy tales _and_ erotic fantasies.” 

Scott grinned and they both laughed. They each ate a few bites of their respective breakfast, after which Scott set his spoon down in his bowl and leaned back in his chair, having resumed staring at Ororo and Kurt. “So, uh…” 

Jean set down her toast. “So, what?” she mumbled with her mouth full. 

Scott picked his spoon back up, waving it in his friend’s direction. “Have they, uh…” 

Jean crossed her arms and stared at Scott stubbornly. “Have they _what_?” 

“You know…” 

Jean stared back with an innocent shrug. Scott (as far as anyone could tell) held her gaze as the seconds ticked by, until he finally slumped in frustration. Jean gave up and tossed her hair. “Well, why are you asking me? I thought you guys were friends.” she said, flitting her hands towards Kurt. 

“Oh, no. We are” Scott assured, nodding rapidly. “It’s just that he never, ever talks about anything like that. Ever.” 

“Well, in that case…” Jean started, picking up her coffee cup and shifting in her chair to face Scott better. He leaned towards her, so she could talk quieter. Once they were both in ‘gossip mode,’ she continued. “So, basically, the way ‘Ro tells it, they’ve done some ‘other stuff,’ but they haven’t gone ‘all the way.’ She insists that she thinks it’ll happen soon, but she’s been saying that for _weeks_ , and at this point she might be deluding herself.” 

Scott frowned. “Hmm. That’s a little disappointing.” 

“Ugh, tell me about it.” Jean replied, shaking her head. “But ‘Ro isn’t doing herself any of favors here. Get this! Last week, she was all like ‘Today’s the day, it’s definitely happening!’ because they were gonna hang out in his room and she was sure he’s just be more comfortable in his dumb hammock or whatever. But they get in there and he just _plays with her hair_ for, like, _three minutes_  and she fucking _falls asleep_! For almost an hour! They had all their goddamn clothes on! Like, who does that?” 

“Oh, shit! He told us about that!” Scott replied in a hushed tone. “He thought that was just _great_ , by the way. He wouldn’t shut up about it.” 

Jean rolled her eyes and took a big drink of coffee. “Pfft. Figures. She brought it on herself.” She picked up her toast and gestured towards Scott with it. “Like, if you hadn’t gotten laid in _years_ , and a opportunity presented itself, would you just be like ‘Or I can nap instead! Whatever!’” 

“I mean, they’re not mutually exclusive.” Scott argued. “Have sex and _then_ have a nap. What an amazing way to spend an afternoon.”   

Jean glanced upwards in consideration. “Hmm. Point taken.” 

“Plus, Kurt’s implied before that he’s scared that if they actually sleep together, she’ll leave him or stop liking him or something like that. We tried explaining that, you know, _the opposite_  is more likely, but you know how he is.” 

“Oh my God…” Jean groaned, tipping her head back. “You’ve got to be kidding me. If he ever puts out, she’s gonna tie him to the headboard, and we won’t see either of them for a month.” 

Scott’s sudden burst of laughter almost caused him to choke on his corn flakes. “Ha! That sounds like it could be a scene from _Mutant Sex Dungeon Seven_ …” he said, shaking his head. 

“Oh? I’m not overly familiar with the _Mutant Sex Dungeon_ series _ _.__ Is it a direct sequel to _Mutant Sex Dungeon Six _?”__  Jean waited patiently for his answer. 

“Uuuhhh…” 

“I just want to know if I should watch them in order of release, or if _Mutant Sex Dungeon Seven_ is a good jumping-on point. I don’t want to be confused by the plot.” 

Jean laced her fingers together on the table and peered at Scott with mock-sincerity while he frowned silently into his cereal. 

“Anyway,” Jean finally said, and Scott breathed a sigh of relief. “it’s extra-frustrating because ‘Ro says his dick’s like the fancy dinnerware- it’s really great, but he only takes it out for special occasions…” 

Scott went back to frowning at his corn flakes, and started mixing the cereal aggressively. “I didn’t ask that question, and I didn’t want that answer.” 

Jean ignored him completely. “-which is something you didn’t mention when I asked you about it, Scott.” She stared at him side-on and tapped the side of her mug with her fingernail. 

Scott huffed and gripped his spoon tightly. “You asked if it had _spikes on it_ , and I told you it didn’t have _spikes on it_.” 

“There was a _bet_ , Scott! I lost money!” 

“Is that all you girls ever talk about?” Scott exclaimed, letting his spoon clatter against his bowl. 

“Well, what do you guys talk about?” Jean shot back. “Race cars? Legos?” 

“Normal people stuff!” Scott insisted a little too hard. “TV! Food! Sports!” 

“Ha! Boring!” 

“Although, Peter gets pretty raunchy sometimes. I should send him over to the girl’s locker room. Apparently, he’d fit right in.” 

“Sure, go ahead.” Jean replied, nodding rapidly. “Send him to our locker room. I mean- we’ll kill him, but he’ll die a happy man.” 

Scott shook his head and downed the last of his orange juice. Jean laughed and reached over to rub between his shoulder blades. “Aw, does it really bother you that much?” 

“Eh, not really. Kinda.” Scott gave a slight shrug and slumped as Jean kept rubbing his back. “I think it wouldn’t bother me at all if it was just locker room talk at, like, some local gym and I didn’t know everyone so well. But, we’re a very tight-knit group that I’m supposed to actually lead sometimes, and I just don’t need to know some details about people’s lives or _bodies_ or _whatever_ …”   

“We’re all sexual beings. It’s just part of life.” 

“Oh, I know. And I’m totally fine with, like, eighty-five percent of it. It’s just-” Scott stopped to think, and then cringed slightly. “for example, Peter’s new thing that he won’t shut up about is that apparently Jubes told him that if he’s able to figure out where the G-spot is, she’ll learn how to deepthroat. And I’m just…I just don’t wanna know that kind of thing about people I work with.” 

“Ooh…” Jean said softly, her brows furrowed with concern. “That would be difficult for her. She has a really sensitive gag reflex.” 

Scott pinched the bridge of his nose for a second before shuddering involuntarily. “Anyway. All I’ve heard about all week is how Peter’s stuck his nose in every anatomical text at our library, AND the big public library in town, and-” 

Jean gave a sharp laugh and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “If he’s looking for the G-spot, _that’s_ not where he should be sticking his nose. Just sayin’.” 

“Oh my God. You’re just as bad.” Scott stated. Jean smiled and inspected her cuticles, as though she were proud of the accusation. “Don’t tell me you talk about _me_ like that to the girls!” Scott questioned seriously in a hushed tone. 

Jean tried to look scandalized. “Oh, no. Not at all!” she assured. 

“Good.” Scott replied with a definitive nod, and continued eating his cereal for a few spoonfuls. After a brief period of relative silence, he set his bowl down and turned to Jean with his elbow over the back of the chair. “Um, why not?” he asked quietly.  

Jean grinned and gave his arm a reassuring pat. “Oh, I was kidding before. I actually talk about you _a lot_.” He couldn’t hide the small, self-satisfied smile that crossed his face as he reached for his cereal bowl again. 

Just as they finished eating their breakfasts, Ororo could be heard to say “If you’re so sure of it, why don’t you ask them!” to Kurt, louder than they had said anything up until that point. Kurt turned in his chair to face the breakfast nook. 

“Scott? Jean? Would either of you be interested in some cabbages? From the garden next year?” he called out politely, and appeared to eagerly await their response, tapping his nails on the counter top and waving his tail behind him. 

“...Um, no thank you.” Scott eventually responded. 

Jean shrugged and wracked her brain for a response. “I mean, I could make some coleslaw, I suppose…” 

“ _Sehr gut._ How many cabbages would you need for that? Four or five _ _?”__ __

__“__ Probably just half of one.” 

“Oh.” Kurt slumped into his chair, thoroughly dejected. 

Ororo poked his side. “See! I told you no one else wants cabbages.” Kurt sighed and they continued with their task. 

Jean turned back to Scott and said in a hushed tone, “See what I mean? She’ll never get laid with that attitude.” She paused to look Scott up and down, lowering her voice to just above a husky whisper. “To get in _your_ pants, I would have planted a _whole field_ of cabbages.”   

Scott scratched his head and tried not to laugh. “Wow. I feel like the belle of the ball.” 

“Ha.” Jean spared a glance towards the now-empty dishes on the table and wrapped her hand around his bicep. “We done here? Let’s go for a walk.” 

 

After cleaning up their dishes, they walked leisurely around the various rooms and long corridors of the mansion, casually chatting and making observations. They walked close together, but not too close, and Jean let her fingertips brush into his as the various denizens of the school moved past them. Eventually, they came to a stop in front of what Scott hadn’t even noticed was his door. Jean clasped her hands together and smiled expectantly at him for the second it took him to take the hint, and he started fumbling in his pockets for his room key. 

“Oh, um…” Jean muttered, and with an almost imperceptibly slight gesture, Scott heard the lock mechanism disengage. He crossed his arms and stared at her, eyebrow raised, for a few seconds until she rolled her eyes. “What? You knew I could do that.” 

“I know. But still.” he replied seriously, then immediately cracked a smile and opened the door, guiding her in the room first with a hand on her back.    

Once inside, he kicked the door closed and she turned, throwing her arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her and they kissed as they moved together towards Scott’s bed. As soon as the the back of Jean’s legs bumped into the mattress, she hopped onto it and scooted towards the center, grinning while untucking her short-sleeved blouse from her faded denim skirt. Scott clamored across the bed on his knees, leaning down to kiss her again, propping himself up with one arm and working his free hand through her long, silky hair. She eagerly kissed him back, laughing a little as she redirected her attention from her own shirt to the button of his khaki shorts. She shifted underneath him, wiggling to work her feet out of her simple canvas tennis shoes, each thumping to the floor. He sat up and turned to do the same, but when he turned back to her, she had also sat upright and motioned for him to stop with a finger held up. 

“Wait a sec. Can we do something about _them_?” she stated, pointing to his desk. Scott turned to see what she was talking about, and then looked back to her and sighed. She was obviously talking about the jar of snails. 

He shrugged and gestured towards his desk. “What’s wrong with Clyde and the gang?” 

Jean looked up at him incredulously and crossed her arms. “I can just feel them staring with their _stupid googly eyes_.” 

“Oh, come on! They have, like, five brain cells between the three of them. Who cares?” 

“It’s _weird_ , Scott!” 

Scott ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “Okay, fine.” He got up off the bed and walked towards the desk. He pulled his T-shirt off and draped it over the jar, covering it entirely. He turned back to Jean and set his hand on his hip. “There. Better?” 

Jean moved to kneel on the edge of the bed, inhaling slowly as she dragged her gaze over his now-half-naked body. She held her arms out to beckon him back to her, and smoothly ran both hands down his muscled chest once he was in reach. “Yes,” she breathed, and paused to run her fingertips through the fine trail of hair from his bellybutton to the partially-undone fly of his shorts. “ _much_ better.” 

Her touch sparked an urgency in both of them, and they raced to remove their clothing as fast as possible. Scott unfastened Jean’s skirt and started tugging it off her hips as she hurried to unbutton just enough of her blouse to pull it over her head. He pushed his khaki shorts to the floor and stepped out of them as he climbed back onto the bed, and immediately reached behind Jean to unclip her bra while she wrapped both arms around his neck to kiss him passionately. Once her bra was undone, she pulled him tight against her, wrapping her legs around his hips and interrupting their kiss with a sultry laugh when she felt how little his plain light blue boxers did to conceal his arousal. He moved to slide her bra straps off her shoulders and kiss her again in the same instant that she plunged her hand down the front of his boxers, and in that moment her face nudged against the frame of his glasses in such a way that he briefly felt the arm lift up and over his ear. 

He gasped, clenched his eyes shut, and rolled over onto his back with both hands holding the glasses on his head, faster than Jean had ever seen him move. His breathing was rapid and he radiated panic as he struggled to convince himself that nothing bad had actually happened. 

“Oh my God! I’m sorry!” Jean blurted as she sat up to check on him, She touched his face and his arm, unsure of how to help. 

“No, no- it’s not your fault.” Scott tried to assure her. Once he was confident his glasses were secure again, he sat up cross-legged, facing away from her. She scooted closer to him, taking her bra off the rest of the way, and leaned against his back, wrapping her arms around him. 

She set her head on his shoulder and rubbed his bicep. “We can just hang out for a while, if you want…” 

He scoffed bitterly and didn’t look towards her. “Huh. Yeah, I guess I kinda ruined the moment, didn’t I?” 

“Oh, no-I’m not saying that. You just- you kinda gave yourself a scare, didn’t you?” 

“Hmm. I’m still not used to the whole ‘almost accidentally vaporizing people you care about’ thing…” he replied flatly, bringing his knees up and crossing his arms on them. 

Jean gave his arm another rub and paused to gently kiss his shoulder a few times. “I’m sure it’s not as bad as that…” she said, resting the side of her face on his shoulder and tightening her arms around him again. “You didn’t scare me at all. I just want to know you’re okay.” 

Scott nodded slowly in response, but continued to stare away. Eventually, he brought one hand to his chest to wrap around the one Jean had set there, curing his fingers around hers. Still leaning against his back, she can feel him take a deep, slow breath before he speaks, barely above a whisper. “Jean, can I ask you something?” 

“Of course! Anything.” 

“And this is just, like, a completely ‘no-pressure’ thing…” Scott continued, a little louder. “You can absolutely say ‘no’ and I’ll just drop it and never bring it up again, no questions asked.” 

“Scott, what is it?” she pressed, a little more urgently than she’d like. 

“It’s just, I was wondering- and again, I’m just wondering so don’t feel like you have to or whatever, cuz-” 

“Scott, please just spit it out! You’re making me nervous!” she blurted. 

“Could I…” Scott finally started tentatively, “Next time we’re, um, _together_ \- could I take my glasses off? And just keep my eyes closed?” 

Jean froze, caught off-guard. “Oh! Well…” 

“It’s just that I constantly worry about them, and they always bump into something, and I can’t really see that well anyways, and besides- the way things _look_ isn’t nearly as important as how they _feel_ , and obviously if you changed your mind or got scared we’d STOP, like, _right away_ , and-” 

She quickly reached up to turn his head towards her with a hand on his chin, surging forward to kiss him in order to stop his rambling. “Yes. We can try that, sure.” 

His brief smile was replaced by a look of concern. “You’re sure? You don’t think you’ll get scared?” 

She maneuvered herself until she was sitting in front of him. She looked at him warmly and held his face in her hands. “Of course. You could never scare me.” She rubbed her thumb in a circle over the fine, barely-perceptible stubble of his jaw before kissing him again, sweet and sincere. He brought his hands up to press against her back, and they quickly shifted themselves around so that she was straddling his lap. She slung her arms easily around his neck and opened her mouth to kiss him deeper, settling her weight on his thighs and reawakening his arousal. Whatever was going to happen, it was going to happen now. 

Scott leaned back a little to look at her, moving a long strand of hair out of her face. “Jean, I- Thank you. I’ve wanted this for a while. To be with you and have nothing between us…” 

Jean smiled until she thought for a second, suddenly furrowing her brow and tilting her head with uncertainty. “Wait- we’re still gonna use protection, right?” 

“Oh, shit!” Scott exclaimed when he realized what she thought he was implying. “Duh. Yeah, we’re gonna use protection! Wow. We’re nineteen, let’s make a fucking baby! Wouldn’t that be stupid!” 

“Oh, thank God! I mean, I figured- I just thought I’d double-check…” Jean rambled, laughing a little. 

“Yeah, sure. If anything, we need to be extra-cautious because Peter traded naming rights to my first-born to Kurt for caramel corn, and the only thing worse than having an unplanned baby is having one with a name you can’t even pronounce.” 

Jean decided not to question this logic, and nodded along seriously. 

“Speaking of which…” Scott muttered under his breath as he reached past Jean and to the side so he could fish the box of condoms out of his bedside table. Jean took this opportunity to get situated in the center of the mattress, and stripped off her underwear. Scott followed suit and she soon re-took her place on his lap. He ran his hands up and down her back as they kissed a few more times and she ran her fingers through his hair. 

Eventually, she set her fingertips just barely on the arms of his glasses. “Are you ready?” she whispered. He paused a second, and then nodded once. She gently slid the glasses off, setting them in their usual spot on the bedside table. Scott kept his hands motionless on her hips, and she looked back to see that his eyes were clenched firmly shut. 

She rubbed her thumbs over the tense muscles at his temple and jaw. “It’s okay. I trust you.” 

He exhaled a long, shaky breath and actually appeared to relax somewhat. “Okay.” 

She took a few seconds to look at him, trying to imagine what his life was like before it was all blindfolds and glasses and visors. She ran her fingertips over his face and through his hair, tucking it over his ears and savoring parts of him she didn’t realize she had never seen or touched. He ran both hands down her back, over her rear and down her thighs, and then back up her sides and chest, stopping to cup both breasts and run his thumbs over each sensitive, hardened nipple. She gasped a little and tilted his head up to hers and kissed him hard. The kiss soon became sloppy and desperate when they both realized how it felt to not have to worry about where his glasses were and how their heads were positioned. He shifted under her, and she laughed into his open mouth when she felt his cock, hot and hard, against her thigh. She herself was throbbing and hit by a sudden impatience. They both panted when she broke the kiss, and she looked him over once more before planting a soft kiss on one eyelid, and then the other. He swallowed hard and re-positioned his hands to her hips as she brought herself up on her knees and lowered herself onto him, holding her breath while he groaned quietly into her collarbone. 

What followed was sweet, familiar, and unrushed. A steady pace that experience had shown would get them both what they needed. After a time, he moved to clutch her shoulders and leaned forward, laying her out on the mattress. She wrapped her legs around his waist and threaded her fingers in his hair, her breath hitching in time with each thrust. Everything felt the same but somehow more intense, as if some weight neither of them knew was there had been lifted off of them. He knew that the heel pressing into his lower back meant to go harder, and how her breathing changed and her nails dug into his back when she was close. Her moan was stifled by his shoulder when she arched up to him, her body clenching around him. It wasn’t much longer until he got there, too, gasping into her hair.   

He rolled onto his side, their limbs still tangled together, and she used her telekinesis to bring his glasses to her. She slid them over his ears, and snuggled up against his chest while he double-checked that they were in place before actually opening his eyes. He looked down at Jean and hugged her closer, running his fingertips over her bare shoulder. 

“Was that okay for you?” he asked, quietly and tentatively. 

“Hmm-mm.” came her easy reply. 

“You’re sure? You’re not just saying that? You weren’t scared?” he pressed anxiously, his hand on her stilling as he awaited her response. 

She sighed and pulled back to look at his face. “I told you I would tell you if it bothered me, and it didn’t.” she stated seriously. She kept watching him until he licked his lip and nodded. She put her head back on his chest again, adding “Besides, I don’t think I could cum if I was scared…”   

At the very least, that shut him up. In relative silence, they managed to get their underwear back on and re-position themselves on the bed so that they were actually laying on the pillows. They stayed like that, quiet and contented, as minutes flew by, until Scott cleared his throat conspicuously. 

“Um, Jean?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Remember that time, at the Drive-In, when we were fooling around and, like, you kinda projected accidentally and I, um, _felt_ -” he described awkwardly. 

Jean decided to cut him off, because it was too much to listen to. “Yep, I remember. I was there.” she said plainly, and he laughed a little as she shifted to look at him better. 

“Well, I think about that a lot, and…” he started, and Jean cringed internally. She recalled Jubilee’s assertion that anytime a man tries something new sexually that he likes, he starts to expect it constantly. It wasn’t that she was uncomfortable with it, it’s just that trying to do it again could be difficult, tedious, and potentially embarrassing.     

Jean continued to watch him get his words together, trying to look casually interested. He stretched and relaxed back with his hands behind his head. “I think we should probably be careful with that. Because, I mean, it was _awesome_ , but I’m a little wary of potential complications. Like, what if one of us accidentally had two orgasms at once? Would that cause brain damage?” He paused, awaiting her input. 

Where the Hell did she find this man? “Um, I don’t think so. I can’t really picture that happening.” she replied, trying to keep the bewilderment out of her voice. 

“But, we don’t know for sure, though, right? Because it’s never actually happened before.” he countered seriously. 

She could only furrow her brow and shrug helplessly. 

“Like, maybe if I was, I dunno, kinda old or already dying of something else. Then, go nuts.” he added after some consideration. 

She laughed and rolled her eyes. “If I accidentally kill you with sexual ecstasy, I’m having that put on your gravestone.” 

“That’s fair.” 

“And the gravestone will also have my name and phone number on it.” 

“Easy now.” 

“Oh, whatever. You’ll be dead. I’ll be single.” She smirked and poked his ribs, while he laughed and curled to avoid her teasing. 

Once he relaxed again and she returned to her position in the crook of his arm, she glanced up at him. “So, now what do you want to do? We don’t have to be in the Danger room for a while.” 

Scott shrugged and scratched his head. “Oh, I dunno…” 

Suddenly struck by sheer brilliance, Jean turned to Scott with a hopeful grin. “Wanna grab a nap?” 

Scott beamed. “Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is from the song "Shout" (1985) by Tears for Fears. I kinda liked it for this chapter because the plot for the characters in each section is a bit cathartic in different ways.  
> I find it really hard to write Erik, so hopefully I didn't fuck that up too badly.  
> Next chapter will not feature sexual content, but it will feature a trip to church- which is better than sex, you filthy heathens. (Obviously I'm joking. I don't think I can walk into a church without the Holy Water boiling.)


	32. I Found the Treasure In A Field

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurt and Ororo make a day of it. Peter deals with some family stuff. Jubilee brought snacks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No porno in this one! Just reading the newspaper, going to church, and calling Mom on the phone! Wholesome!  
> Note: In this chapter, there is some extended conversation that isn't in English. I provided the (hastily googled) translation in brackets.

“Ooh, is today the big day?” Jean called out teasingly to Ororo. 

“Yes!” 

Jean grinned in response and shook a spoonful of brown sugar over her oatmeal. Scott, Jean, Ororo, and Kurt sat in the breakfast nook, putting the finishing touches on their food. 

“ _Bitte_ , Jean- don’t get her any more worked up than she already is!” Kurt pleaded. He gestured with his fork towards the plates of scrambled eggs that he and Ororo had in front of them. “You should know that she didn’t scramble these eggs- she is so anxious that she merely held them and they scrambled themselves.” 

“Oh, please! I’m not that bad!” Ororo insisted, swatting at Kurt’s arm playfully. Just then, something in the mansion’s vast front yard grabbed her attention. She twisted around in her chair and stared out the window. “Oh! Is that him? Is that the mailman?”    

Scott paused with his spoonful of cornflakes halfway between the bowl and his mouth. “Um, ‘Ro- that’s a lady in short-shorts walking a Yorkie.” 

“Oh.” She slumped in disappointment. 

“ _Liebling _,”__ Kurt started softly, tapping the side of Ororo’s hand with his until he had regained her attention. “what sort of things would you eat for breakfast before you came here? I’ve mostly just seen you make eggs or toast.” 

“Hmm. Well…” Ororo straightened up in her chair and thought. “In Egypt, we didn’t always have a place to cook so we mostly ate the food sold by street vendors. It was delicious, but I can’t cook it here because I never learned how it was made.” Kurt nodded along and she took a few bites of eggs. “In Kenya, though, there were a few different dishes I miss. My favorite- _Mbaazi za nazi _-__  is just pigeon peas and chilies and curry powder and coconut milk and quite easy to prepare, but they don’t carry the type of legumes I need in the grocery store.” 

“Have you checked that open-air market they have downtown?” Kurt asked, referring to a summertime market that generally featured local artisans, imported goods, and specialty foods. 

Ororo glanced upwards in consideration. “They might have it, or something like it. It’s just so out-of-the-way that I’ve never gone there. ”    

Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it as Charles entered the room with Hank in tow. “Good morning, everyone.” he called out politely. He motioned his head towards Ororo. “Ororo, I believe Summer Harvest featurette should be in this morning’s edition of the newspaper, if I’m not mistaken.” 

“Is that so?” she replied pleasantly, with her hands laced together on the table. Everyone around her groaned or shook their heads. 

“There’s the mailman now.” Hank observed casually, as he sat down with cups of coffee for him and Charles. 

“Oh!” Ororo exclaimed excitedly, and moved to stand up. Kurt placed a hand on her shoulder briefly, and she sat down as he teleported away. He was back in a split second with the folded-up newspaper. 

Everyone watched as she removed the special Summer Harvest section of the newspaper, and flipped through it eagerly. 

“Where are the rest of you?” Hank wondered idly, referring to Peter and Jubilee. 

Scott scoffed and glanced at his watch. “Probably still asleep.” Hank nodded and started peeling an orange. 

“Oh! Here it is!” Ororo flipped open the page where they announced the winners of various competitions. She skimmed the lists until she got to the part about sunflowers. “Oh. I didn’t get it.” she observed, with a hint of disappointment. 

“You’ll probably get it next year.” Jean offered. 

Ororo nodded and pointed at the measurement of the winning sunflower. “Hmm. I could have sworn mine was bigger than that.” 

Kurt leaned in and squinted at the numbers. “I thought so, too. Maybe they measure them differently?” 

Ororo shrugged and continued flipping through the Summer Harvest featurette until she got to the end. “Oh. I guess they decided not to include that interview with us after all,” she remarked, with deepening disappointment. “probably because we didn’t win.” She sighed and idly flipped through a few more pages of the regular Sunday edition of the newspaper, until something caught her eye. “Wait…” she said, and started reading a small article centered next to a small picture of a sunflower. Her expression slowly shifted into anger as she read, until she finally breathed “ _What is this?_ ” 

She shoved the newspaper towards Charles and pointed to the article in question. Jean and Hank leaned in closer to read over Charles’ shoulder. “Is this what passes as journalism in this country?!” Ororo demanded rhetorically.   

Charles quickly skimmed the article, which was titled ‘Something Sinister Growing on Mutant School Campus?’ The article made reference to ‘freakish’ plant life grown under ‘suspicious’ circumstances that was excluded from competition due to the possibility of ‘radiation or other mutation-related contaminants.’ The article also managed to, almost impressively considering it’s length, make several unfounded implications and disparaging comments about Ororo, Kurt, their respective powers and nationalities, and the existence of the school in general. 

As Charles furrowed his brow in concern, Hank spoke up. “If they had concerns about radiation, they should have said something while they were here. I would have been more than happy to break out my Geiger counter and set everyone’s mind at ease.” 

Charles sighed heavily. “I don’t think this is really _about_ the radiation, Hank.” 

“I did _nothing_ to that garden that couldn’t be done by anyone else. ****Nothing****. Water, sunlight, commercially available soil and fertilizers-” Ororo ranted intensely, counting things off on her fingers. “But when _their_ crops wither under the dual burdens of _incompetence_ and _neglect_ , somehow _I’m_ the one with a problem?” 

“You don’t have to defend yourself to us, ‘Ro. We know it’s bullshit.” Jean said, reaching out to pat Ororo’s arm. 

“ _Ja_. This is just what happens when a jealous person has access to a typewriter.” Kurt added. “Your flower was nicer than theirs and they couldn’t stand it.” 

“It’s not about the flowers. It’s about _everything_ and _all of us_. The claims they make are absurd.” Ororo shot back, jabbing the tabletop with her finger. “For example, they not-so-subtly imply that you’re an East German spy.” 

Kurt raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Of course. Because I am so inconspicuous.” he said, his tone halfway between amused and insulted. “Besides, that’s just silly. I told them I was Bavarian.”    

“Clearly, they didn’t use anything from the interview they conducted. They didn’t even use the pictures they took. That is a stock photo of a generic sunflower.” Ororo added with annoyance, pointing at the newspaper. 

“Can you be certain? The photographer took several pictures.” 

“I think I know my own sunflower, Kurt!” Ororo snapped. Kurt frowned but didn’t respond. 

Charles folded the newspaper and set in back in the center of the table. “Ororo, I agree that this is unacceptable. The publisher will be hearing from me first thing tomorrow morning.”   

Scott nodded. “What this situation calls for is a strongly-worded letter-to-the-editor.” he said, with almost-undetectable sarcasm. Jean swatted his arm. 

Ororo nodded in response, but her eyes were downcast and her hands were laced together on the table. Kurt leaned back in his chair and looked at her, sullen and defeated. It was more than he could tolerate. He patted the back of her hand to get her attention. “In the meantime, this is how we’re going to deal with this-” he explained, once she looked over to him. She watched him silently as he grabbed the newspaper and started separating out the various sections. “Global Events for the Professor, Jean and Doctor McCoy like the crosswords, Scott gets Sports, and I’ll set aside the comics and Pop Culture sections for Jubilation and Peter, when they wake up…” he said, almost to himself, as he pulled out and distributed sections of the newspaper. When he was done, he took what was left and rolled it into as tight a roll as possible, adding “and this is what we do with the rest.” just before he pulled the nearby window open with his tail, and flung the newspaper into the shrubs outside. 

Ororo let out a brief burst of laughter despite herself, and propped her head up with her elbow on the table, watching as he straightened up in his chair. He tilted his head towards her and continued, quietly and tentatively, “I have to leave for Mass in a few minutes, but when that’s over I can come back for you, and maybe we could go to that open-air market downtown? Make a day of it? Could be fun.” 

She smiled and nodded. “Why don’t I just go with you to church, and save a trip?” she asked, but then bit her lip. “Is that allowed?” she added, after some hesitation. 

Kurt’s eyes widened and he took a second to collect his thoughts. “Yes, of course it’s allowed! All are welcome.” he replied, a little too enthusiastically. He looked away, adding “Most people would just find it boring, that’s all.” 

Ororo responded with an easy shrug. “I’d rather be bored with you than angry by myself.” Kurt grinned and clutched his hands together. 

Just then, Raven wandered into the kitchen and made a bee-line for the pantry. “Who the hell puts an empty box of cereal back on the shelf?” she angrily asked no one. 

“It may have been Peter.” Ororo offered. 

“Probably Peter, yeah.” Jean confirmed. 

“One hundred percent guarantee Peter did that shit.” Scott stated confidently. 

“Good morning, Raven.” Charles called out pointedly. 

“Hey.” Raven replied crankily, and poured herself a cup of coffee. She threw herself into an empty chair and took a second to observe the people around her. “So, where’s the Editorials?” she asked, looking at everyone else reading their newspaper sections. Kurt, who was clearly not in any way fit to be an East German spy, looked away guiltily and drummed his fingers on the table. This drew Raven’s attention immediately. “Kurt…where’s the rest of the newspaper?” she pressed, staring him down. 

He wrung his hands and his tail waved distractingly behind him. “Ororo and I set aside a plate of scrambled eggs for you.” he announced, jerking his thumb towards the kitchen. 

“Aw, _sweet_! EGGS.” Raven replied, far too emphatically, and immediately went to the kitchen. As soon as she was out of sight, Kurt placed his hand on Ororo’s shoulder and teleported them both away. 

Raven returned from the kitchen with her eggs and pointed towards the empty chairs. “What the hell?” 

Hank shook his head and ate an orange slice. “Raven, if you learned to cook for yourself, that trick would stop working.” 

She threw herself into her seat with a huff. “If I started cooking for myself, people would stop taking pity on me and cooking for me.” she replied smugly, punctuated by her taking a big bite of scrambled eggs.    

Hank laughed to himself and looked back down at the crossword, and everyone ate their breakfast in relative silence for a short time. Unprompted, Hank looked up and adjusted his glasses before turning towards Scott and Jean. 

“So, random question- and you two don’t have to answer if you think it’s too private- but…” Hank started, and Scott and Jean gave him their full attention. “are they dating?” he finally asked, gesturing towards the seats that Kurt and Ororo had been occupying. 

Scott and Jean glanced at each other and shrugged. Raven rolled her eyes. “Well, yeah. It’s not like it’s a secret.” Scott answered. 

“Hmm. Interesting. How long for?” Hank asked, trying to seem casual but with self-satisfaction creeping into his expression. Raven glared at him with her mouth full. 

“About a month and a half? Two months?” Jean responded, looking to Scott for confirmation. Scott nodded along. 

“Fuck off, Hank.” Raven mumbled with her fork in her mouth. 

“Don’t be crass, Raven.” Charles replied. He glanced towards Hank and muttered “I also knew that, by the way.” 

Hank beamed and leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Twenty bucks, Raven. A bet’s a bet.” 

“Aarg!” Raven groaned as she reached into the pocket of what were apparently actual pants and pulled out a few bills. She removed a twenty from the small amount of cash and, instead of placing it in Hank’s outstretched hand, crumpled it into a tiny ball. She maintained eye contact with Hank as she rolled the money ball between her palms until it was as small and compact as possible and then, without looking way, threw it effortlessly out the window that Kurt had left open when he threw the newspaper.   

“What? Go get it.” she remarked over his aggravated gesture. The other three people at the table tried as hard as they could not to laugh. 

******

 Ororo walked hesitantly through the old, wooden double doors of Kurt’s church, pausing to take in her surroundings. The church was small and modest compared to those she had seen on TV- made mostly of wood rather than stone, with windows that were clear rather than elaborate stained-glass. It was a beautiful building nonetheless, with a very high ceilings and orate, curving architecture that culminated at the elaborately decorated altar. The walls featured a series of numbered paintings she assumed were probably scenes from the Bible, and there was a statue of a woman cradling the wounded body of a man, which Kurt would later explain was the Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ, her son. 

Kurt gently nudged her forward with a hand on her back, and they made their way into the building. He smiled and waved at a few people, shook hands with a few others, and she was introduced to the priest and a lady handing out programs as his ‘very good friend who goes to the same school’. Once they made their way to the font of Holy Water, he demonstrated how he would bless himself, but made it clear that she wasn’t obligated to do so. She opted not to, but did copy how he genuflected when they sat in the pew. 

Kurt was right when he had said that most would consider church to be boring, but he had neglected to mention that it was also confusing. Ororo found that the congregation would stand, kneel, or sit in perfect unison but at random intervals. There were multiple times when the priest or someone doing a reading would say something, and everyone was expected to respond together with a different phrase. Every time there was a song or reading, Kurt handed her a book turned to the correct page so she could follow along. There was a story about a fish with a coin in it’s mouth. There was a song about a treasure in a field. The priest talked about Jesus’ teaching that to treat the downtrodden and outcast poorly was no different than treating him the same way. She couldn’t help but let her mind wander about how things would be different if people actually acted like that. 

When Kurt went to line up for Communion (something he had explained that only practicing Catholics could do,) she sat back in the pew and looked around her. There were several other presumably non-Catholic friends or partners sitting in pews waiting for their companions to return, and she exchanged friendly, sympathetic glances with some of them. The congregation consisted mostly of older people, although there were some young families with children. It was mostly- but not exclusively- Caucasian, but so was the rest of the town. Mostly, she watched as Kurt, the congregation’s lone blue member, made his way up the line for Communion. The whole time they had been here, she hadn’t seen one person staring at him. People looked at him, sure, but most of them seemed to know him. Most of them seemed glad to see him. 

Kurt soon returned to her, and the rest of the service wrapped up with a few more prayers, followed by some announcements about a recent birth and a bake sale. When the priest said “Go in peace.” Ororo watched with some amusement as the members of the congregation moved to shake hands with the people near them. Kurt smiled warmly at her when he shook her hand, muttering “Peace.” quietly before moving on the the next person. A stooped, elderly woman was next for Ororo, and she took Ororo’s hand, her grip soft yet sincere. “Peace, sister.” she said, with conviction. 

Shortly after shaking hands with every person within arm’s reach, it was over. Upon leaving the church, Kurt guided her around the block to an alleyway, where he could discretely teleport them both to within a block of the market. 

“So, what did you think?” Kurt questioned in a sing-song tone as soon as they had re-oriented themselves. 

“It was interesting. There was a lot going on.” Ororo replied after some consideration. Kurt nodded. “The people there are nice to you.” she added, almost as an afterthought. 

Kurt shrugged and smiled. “Well, for the most part, they are nice people. Also, they are used to me.” He softly grasped her fingers as they walked side-by-side. “ _You_ , though, are new. Every week from now on that you don’t accompany me, everyone will need to know where my pretty friend is.” 

She laughed and gave his hand a tug. “Oh, I’m sure.” After a few steps, a small detail came to mind. “Why did that older woman call me ‘sister’? Is it because I’m black?” 

“Um…” Kurt laughed a little awkwardly. “I’m not sure Mrs. McKinnon knows that you’re black. I’m not even sure she knows that I’m blue. She’s mostly blind.” 

Ororo responded with an amused “Oh?” 

“But really, it’s because we think God as our Holy Father and creator, and as such, we are all brothers and sisters.” 

“Even though I’m not part of your religion?” 

“Yes. We are all God’s children.” 

“Hmm. It’s a nice thought, anyways.” she replied after some hesitation.

 

They walked slowly through the market, stopping at every vendor regardless of what they were selling. Everything from beeswax candles, handmade leather wallets, rock band posters, and gourmet beef jerky was for sale. Currently, they flipped through a rack of tie-dyed t-shirts under guise of picking one for Peter. 

Ororo picked out a tacky swirled blue, purple, and yellow shirt and held it up to her body. “What do you think? Too much or not enough?” she asked seriously before giggling. 

Kurt grinned. “You laugh, but my brother wore one almost exactly like that. I dreaded the day it would be handed down to me.” 

Ororo quickly held the shirt up to Kurt instead, throwing her head back and laughing at the ridiculousness of it. 

He crossed his arms and tried to stay serious. “Fortunately my prayers were answered when he ruined it by getting axle grease all over it.” 

Ororo frowned as she took another appraising look at the shirt she held up to Kurt. “Truly a divine intervention.” she said before they both started laughing again. 

They put the shirt back and kept walking, now moving through the section of the market that featured locally made foods. While standing at a booth that sold jams and pickles, Ororo leaned close to him, wrapping her hand around his arm. “What is it like having siblings?” she asked, suddenly and unprovoked. 

Kurt was clearly caught off-guard. “Oh! Well, um…” 

“Not like your brother, though. We’ve established that he is garbage. Tell me about your sister. What was she like?” 

“Hmm…” He looked down, deep in thought, for a few seconds. “Jimaine is maybe three years older than me. She is about this tall-” He held his hand a few inches below his shoulder. “and blonde. She was often my partner during our acrobatic performances.” 

“So, a short, blonde, athletic woman. I could perhaps pick her out of a police lineup.” Ororo stated plainly, staring sidelong at Kurt to let him know that his description was not at all sufficient. 

Kurt laughed awkwardly and looked at his feet. “Well, I’m not really sure what to tell you, other than that I wish you could just meet her for yourself. Her and my mother both.” 

“Oh?” Ororo raised an eyebrow. “You think they’d approve?” 

Kurt set down the jar of pickles he had been inspecting and turned to her, his hands clutched in front of him. “Ororo, they would just _love_ you. My sister especially, I think. She would want you to be the sister she always complained she never had…” He looked down with a smile and picked the pickles back up again. “My mother might be slightly protective, just because I’m the baby of the family. But that wouldn’t stop her from telling you every embarrassing thing I ever did.” He paused a beat and added with a shrug, “And you would like them too, I think.” 

“Any reason why they would love me, but I just ‘might like’ them?” She put her hand on his forearm and watched the gears in his head start spinning. 

Kurt frowned in consideration as he struggled to explain the women in his family. “Hmm. You need to understand that my mother is a renowned fortune teller. She can’t actually read minds or tell the future- so essentially she just _watches_ people and can tell what they want, what they’re thinking. She is almost frighteningly good at it, to the extent that most people find her…somewhat uncanny. A bit too intense. What’s worse is that she never ‘turns it off,’ so to speak- she does this all the time for everyone, not just professionally. Needless to say, we never got away with anything as children!” 

He paused to hand the salesperson some money for the pickles, and continued as they walked to the next vendor. “My sister, on the other hand…” he started with a slight cringe, “She has a good heart, but she, um…Let’s just say that if she had a thought about something, you would know about it. _Gott im Himmel _,__ would you _ever_ know about it…” he explained, shaking his head towards the end. 

Ororo slipped her arm around his waist as they walked and tugged him close. “They sound like my kind of women!”

 

They soon moved into the part of the market that featured vendors of specialty and imported goods. Ororo laughed and shook her head when Kurt quickly scurried off, muttering something about mustard. She kept walking until familiar, brightly patterned swatches of fabric caught her eye. She hurried over to the vendor, who displayed a wide variety of goods mostly from southeast Africa. There was everything from clothing and accessories, various crafts, and a collection of imported foods and other items. Ororo stood and marveled at things she hadn’t seen in years. 

“There is more under the table.” The saleswoman stated with a gesture over her wares, when she noticed Ororo. Her accent was thick but familiar. 

Ororo cleared her throat and hesitated. “ _Je! Unauza mbaazi za njiwa?_ ” (Do you sell pigeon peas?) she asked. It felt strange to speak in language other than English after so long. 

The saleswoman smiled and knelt down, soon standing back up and dropping a one-kilogram sack of pigeon peas on the table. “ _Ndio, kweli!_ ” (Yes, of course!)         

Ororo picked the sack up gleefully. “ _Ajabu_!” (Wonderful!) 

Ororo continued browsing as the saleswoman moved on to other customers. She was trying on bracelets when small pile of simple cardboard boxes caught her eye. She gasped despite herself and picked a box up, reading the label. It was a type of bar soap she had used in when she was still in Kenya, that was locally made from natural ingredients. 

The saleswoman smiled at her again. “ _Ni nzuri kwa ngozi_!” (It's great for the skin!) she proclaimed. 

Ororo grinned, holding up the small box. “ _Ndio nakumbuka! Sikuweza kuipata hapa_.” (Yes I remember! I couldn't find it here.) 

The saleswoman gave a sly smile and leaned across the table towards Ororo. “ _Ikiwa utatumia, mpenzi wako hataweza kuweka mikono yake mbali na wewe!_ ”(If you use it, your boyfriend won't be able to keep his hands off you!) she said in a hushed, knowing tone. 

Ororo smirked. “ _Labda napaswa kununua chache!_ ”(Maybe I should buy a few!) she replied, picking up a few more boxes. The saleswoman laughed out loud. 

Just then, Kurt came up behind her, making his presence known with a hand on her shoulder. She turned to him, only to see him holding up a jar of mustard proudly. She nodded in acknowledgment. 

“And I see you found your beans!” he said, pointing to the sack of pigeon peas she was holding. 

“Pigeon peas. But yes!” she confirmed, She gestured towards the display table and the woman working behind it, who was currently serving another customer. “There are quite a few things here I like.” 

She turned back to the table and was able to regain the saleswoman’s attention. She handed some cash to her, and was handed some change and a bag in return. “ _Asante sana!_ ” (Thank you so much!) she called out, and the woman smiled back, but gave an amused glance as Kurt and Ororo turned and walked away. 

“It sounds like you made a friend!” Kurt observed as they walked through the rest of the market. 

Ororo scoffed. “I made a sales transaction! Just because we speak the same language does not make us friends.” 

“I heard her laughing at your joke.” Kurt added. 

Ororo gave him a pointed look. “Laughing at jokes made by people with cash in their hands is a good business strategy.” 

“The man who sold me this mustard didn’t laugh at _my_ joke.” Kurt pointed out with a slight cringe. 

“Well, was he also German? Raven has said that your people have no sense of humor.” Ororo replied impishly. 

Kurt laughed and shook his head. “She can say that, but when she made _me_ , the joke was on _her_.” 

Ororo laughed sharply, and she wrapped her hand around his forearm. “Although it was nice to speak Swahili again…even though I am quite rusty.” Ororo observed as they walked. “And her accent was different. She may be Ugandan?” 

Kurt shrugged and smiled. “You’ll just have to ask her next time you come back for more-” He paused to point at her bag of items. “whatever you have there. I won’t even make you go to church.” 

“Oh, that reminds me!” Ororo dug into her bag. “This is for you! It’s soap.” 

Kurt took the small package from her hand and inspected it curiously. “Thank you. But I have soap.” 

“This is different. Smell it.” 

He opened the box to sniff it. “It doesn’t really smell like anything.” 

“Exactly. It has no harsh chemicals like products here. The soap you use now smells like something Scott would buy.” Ororo explained.    

“It is what Scott buys. I just bought what he used because I didn’t recognize any of the American brands.” 

“Well, you deserve better.” she stated confidently. “So does Scott, but I’ll leave that for Jean to deal with.” 

Kurt gave a long, weary sigh, even though she could see him smiling. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. “What would I do without you?” 

******

 Jean and Scott sat at the kitchen island, sorting through some paperwork that the Professor had asked for help with. Jean had just taken it upon herself to use her telekinesis to untangle a clump of paperclips when a familiar ‘BAMF’ sound emanated from just inside the front door. 

“How was the market?” Jean called out, without looking away from the paperclips. 

“Great!” Ororo replied. 

“Buy anything cool?” 

Ororo rounded the corner and held up her bag of purchases. “Yes! Peas!” 

Kurt poked his head out from behind the door frame. “Pickles!” 

“Soap!” 

“Mustard!” 

Scott shook his head slightly. “Wow. Thrilling stuff, guys.” Jean made a half-hearted attempt to swat his arm. 

“Oh! Scott, this is for you!” Ororo reached into her bag and thrust a soap package towards Scott. “It’s a better type of soap. It should really help with that patch of eczema on the back of your neck.” 

“Oh, umm…” Scott started to stammer, looking embarrassed. “Thanks, but, um- yeah, I think I’m good, though. Thanks anyways.” 

Ororo gave an easy shrug. “Not at all.” she said with a pleasant smile, and then discretely handed the box to Jean, who mouthed ‘Thank you’ to her. 

As Ororo turned and left the kitchen, Kurt shook his head and sighed at her. “What? I couldn’t help myself. He looks _itchy_!” Ororo whispered back as they made their way up the hall. 

Scott and Jean returned to their task for the next few minutes, until the front door swung open again. Jubilee strode into the kitchen, cracking her gum and making a bee-line for the fridge. 

“’Sup, guys?” she said, without looking in their direction. 

“Not too much.” Jean replied as Scott gestured towards the stacks of paperwork. 

Jubilee nodded silently, finally pushing her pink sunglasses off her face and onto her head so she could see the contents of the fridge better. 

Scott watched her pull some bottles of soda out of the fridge and place them into a bag she held that was already full of things. “Whatcha got there?” he inquired. 

“Just some snacks and a movie me and Peter are gonna watch.” She reached into the bag and pulled out a VHS of _The Thing_. 

“Ha! Good luck! That one’s pretty scary.” Scott replied. 

“What? No way!” Jubilee protested, inspecting the VHS case. “Peter said it was more funny than scary.” 

“Pfft! It’s super creepy.” Jean confirmed. “Like, I’m still kinda suspicious of dogs. It’s that terrifying.” 

“That asshole!” Jubilee exclaimed. “He got me again!” 

“Now, now. It’s not all bad. It’s got Kurt Russell with a beard, so try to focus on that.” Jean pointed out. 

“Aarg!” Jubilee groaned, and angrily made her way to Peter’s room. 

 

When she knocked on his door, it instantly swung open, although he was already on the opposite side of the room by the time she stepped in. He was on the phone, and the cord whipped about wildly as he paced and talked. He waved at Jubilee and she set their snacks down on his bed. He pointed to the phone and mouthed ‘Mom’ to her. 

“Ooh! Can I say ‘Hi Mrs. Maximoff?’” Jubilee whispered. 

He covered the receiver with his hand. “It’s ‘Ms.,’ but sure. Go nuts.” 

“Hi Ms. Maximoff!” Jubilee called out jovially. 

Peter smirked and spoke into the phone. “Yeah, that’s just Jubes. Yeah, I agree she sounds annoying.” 

Jubilee’s insulted gasp was twinned with a sudden, loud, shrill noise on the opposite end of the phone. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “Ugh, fine, I’ll tell her.” he spoke into the phone again, and then lowered the receiver away from his face. “She didn’t say you sound annoying. She said you sound cute.” 

“Ah. I see she’s also a woman of class.” Jubilee said with nod and a smirk. Peter shook his head, and she moved to sit on his bed, just so she wouldn’t get tangled in the phone cord. 

She opened a bag of chips and tried to eat quietly while Peter finished his chat with his mother. She was starting to get dizzy as she watched him pace rapidly- not as fast as he was capable of moving, but still much faster than the average person could run. 

“Yeah, I talked to him. Yeah, no, it, uh…it was actually not bad. Like, I think we’ll probably do it again soon. Like just meet up and talk about stuff.” Peter spoke into the phone, apparently telling his mom about his talk with Erik. He waited while she said something. “Yes, yes, I’ll ask him if heart disease runs in the family, God… I never should have told you that. Hank was just being a dick.” 

He zipped across the room again, now laying across his rolling desk chair. “So how’s whats-his-face? Ben? Len? Well, how am I suppose to remember ‘Sven’? It’s friggin’ weird. Like, you’re from Minnesota, dude, not Norway. Yeah, I’ll probably meet him at Thanksgiving, I guess. Yes, Mom, I promise to be nice, jeez, I’m not twelve…” He moved quickly to now be sitting on the bottom corner of his bed, his back to Jubilee. “No, I don’t think he’s gonna come. He’s, like, got a girlfriend now. Well, yeah, he still eats food- I just figure they might got their own thing planned, I dunno…” 

Jubilee raised an eyebrow, but he stood up to pace obliviously, the phone cord making a snapping sound when he changed directions. “So, what’s Wanda up to?” he asked his mother casually and then continued pacing the length of his room for a few seconds while she responded until something she said caused him to stop dead in his tracks, his free hand clenched into a fist. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” he finally replied, with his voice stony but his eyes and the set of his jaw reflecting an anger Jubilee had never, ever seen him display. “What? No. That worthless piece of shit… Put her on. Is she home? No, I don’t give a shit. Put her on.” 

He stood in place, tapping his foot and raking his hand through his hair as he presumably waited for his sister to get on the phone. Jubilee waited silently on the bed, but the tension in the room had caused her to hug her knees to her chest nervously. Finally, a feminine voice could vaguely be heard on the other end of the line, and Peter instantly straightened up and tried to keep his tone neutral. “Oh, hey, Wanda, what’s up?” he said, not nearly as casual as he’d like. “Oh, no. No, I just wanted to catch up, especially since Mom was sayin’-” He was cut off, and made a face when he had to pull the phone away from his ear due to a sudden increase in volume. “Well, no shit, Sherlock. That’s cuz he’s an asshole!” he yelled back into the phone, before having to pull it away from his head again. “Ya think maybe that’s why you keep sayin’ your friends are being bitches to you- maybe they’re just sayin’ the truth and you just don’t wanna hear it! Cuz- Wait! Don’t hang- Hello? Hello! ****FUCK****.” 

Jubilee ducked her head involuntarily when he threw the receiver in the general direction of the phone. It bounced off the wall, leaving the drywall dented but the receiver somehow intact. He appeared next to the phone and slammed the receiver down into it’s place, causing her to flinch. 

Once the the dust had both literally and figuratively settled, Jubilee scooted around to face Peter’s position while still sitting cross-legged on the bed. He was still staring at the phone, both hands clenched into fists. She ate a chip, crunching conspicuously loud before she finally asked, “So, wanna tell me what’s got you swearing at your mom?”     

Peter sighed wearily and raked both hands through his hair. “I wasn’t, like, swearing _at_ Mom, I was just swearing while talking _to_ Mom. It’s different.” 

“Uh-huh. So what’s up?” 

“Ugh. You don’t wanna know.” 

“Bullshit. Tell me.” 

Peter threw himself into the desk chair again, doing nothing to stop it from rolling back. “So, basically, Mom’s been seeing this new guy, uh, Sven? For, like, a few months. And I’m like ‘Whatever’ cuz he sounds decent and she seems happy, but Wanda’s going through her typical ‘You’re not my real dad’ thing- which is nothing new, lemme tell you. And, like, _I get it_ , even though this guy sounds better than the last few…” 

He stood abruptly out of the chair, which spun away until it bumped into the wall. He paced again, ranting rapidly and flailing his hands about as he talked. “But, like, the big deal about all this is that Mom tells me Wanda’s back dating this jackass that she broke up with last year. He’s…the fucking worst. He’s, like, _at least_  twenty-two, he’s got her cutting class and smoking…” Peter started counting things off on his fingers as he paced. “So, like, _of course_  all her friends hate him, but he just keeps telling her that it’s because they don’t understand her like he does, and they don’t want her to be happy…all that typical ‘ _Romeo and Juliette_ ’ bullshit. So now she doesn’t even talk to them anymore. Plus! Get this!” He stopped, facing Jubilee with his hands held up. “He drives some piece-of-shit crotch-rocket motorcycle, and he’ll actually pick her up and take her places without giving her a fucking helmet! Like, what the fuck? She could fucking die!” 

Jubilee hastily set her chip bag aside. “Omigawd, that’s, like, so irresponsible. That’s, like, a thousand times worse than having unprotected sex. Like, I’m sure gonorrhoea’s bad, but it can’t be as bad as getting your carcass smeared across the entirety of a four-way intersection.” 

The color drained out of Peter’s face and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, his hands draped weakly in his lap. “Holy shit.” he breathed quietly, staring off at nothing. 

“Uh, sorry.” Jubilee reached out to pat his shoulder awkwardly. 

“No, it’s, um…You really paint a picture.” he explained, frowning and nodding. 

“So what’s your mom’s take on all this?” Jubilee asked, having moved closer to kneel next to him. 

“Pfft, not much.” he scoffed. “She’s basically like ‘She’s sixteen, I can’t control her!’ and ‘If I tell her not to see him, she’s just gonna sneak out and see him anyways!’ and my personal favorite, ‘I don’t give a shit as long as she doesn’t get pregnant!’” 

“Oh.” 

“Yep. And I mean, I can kinda see her point on _some of it_ …” he said begrudgingly. “But that kinda feels like giving up, doesn’t it? Like, I feel like she gets wrapped up in a guy like that cuz she’s lonely? Her dad remarried and moved to Arizona a few years ago and she, I dunno…she has a hard time keeping friends. God knows I did my share of _stupid shit_ when I was her age, but she’s, like, _smarter_ and _better _-__  I just wish she wouldn’t fall into the same traps…” He let himself flop backwards onto the bed, arms above his head. “I just wish she would come here, and see what things could be like if she sorted her shit out…” 

Jubilee sat up straighter and furrowed her brow. “Uh, Peter- is your sister even a mutant?” 

Peter let out a heavy sigh and pressed the heel of each palm into his eyes. “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you ‘don’t know’?” 

He flailed his hands in a useless gesture. “I mean I don’t know!” he replied, exasperated. Jubilee was unsatisfied, and waited for him to elaborate while playing with a pigtail. Peter huffed in frustration, and tried to formulate a response. “She just- It’s like…” he stammered. “Like, _stuff_ happens when she’s around. _Weird_ stuff. Like, bizarre, astronomically unlikely stuff. Like, she’ll buy a bag of skittles and they’ll all be orange, cuz that’s her favorite. If the radio contest wants the fifth caller to win a prize, she’s always gonna be the fifth caller. If she’s in a car with you and she’s in a good mood, you get all green lights. If she’s mad at you, you get all reds. Stuff _stops_ working, stuff somehow _starts_ working…it’s like the rules of of the universe don’t apply to her. But, like, she doesn’t do it on purpose- it just happens. She has no control over it, so she’s in complete denial about it. And, I mean, why not, right? Who wants to feel _even more_  weird?”          

“I’m sure the professor could find out pretty quick if she was actually a mutant. Then, he’d probably invite her to transfer here.” Jubilee pointed out. 

“That’s what I said!” Peter exclaimed, jumping up suddenly and standing in the middle of his room. “I’m like ‘Come here! Make friends!’ and she’s just like ‘I won’t know anyone!’ But, like, she’ll know me! And, like, you and the girls would help her get settled, I’m sure…” 

Jubilee nodded emphatically. 

“Wanna hear something stupid? I was even thinking that I’d invite Kurt to our place for Thanksgiving this year, in the off-chance him and Wanda hit it off. Of course, him and ‘Ro hooking up kinda threw a wrench in that one.” 

Jubilee burst out laughing. “Seriously? If she’s into trashy bikers, she’s not gonna fall for our polite blue choir boy.” 

Peter threw his hands up in exasperation. “He owns a leather jacket and has a lot of tattoos! I’m grasping at straws, here!” 

Jubilee laughed some more and shook her head.    

Peter scratched the side of his head and shrugged. “Besides, he was kinda my second choice. I actually think her and Summers would get along better, but I don’t want Jean putting me in a coma.” 

Jubilee pulled back in disbelief. “What?! I thought you and Scott hated each other?” 

Peter’s posture slumped and he moved to sit on the side of the bed again. “We don’t _hate_ each other, we just- I mean, there’s no denying that we annoy the _fucking shit_  out of each other, but I dunno…He’s a good guy.” 

Jubilee nodded. “Well, yeah. I mean, he’s not _my_ type, but according to everything Jean says, he’s a really good boyfriend.” 

“Exactly! See, if she’d just come here, she’d essentially have it all. She could figure out the whole ‘mutant’ thing, make new friends, finish up high school, maybe get into a decent college, maybe meet a guy who doesn’t belong in a fucking dumpster…” Peter listed things off, gazing upwards with a wistful look. 

Jubilee shifted to bend one knee and rest her hands and chin on it. She smiled warmly at Peter. “It’s so cute that you’re a good big brother.” 

Peter whipped his head around and stared at her incredulously before scoffing. “I’m a fucking shitty brother. All this is my fault.” 

Jubilee screwed her face up in confusion, but before she should ask how that was possible, he told her anyway. “So, like, Wanda was born was I was eleven. So as long as she’s been alive, I’ve always been there for her. Like, when her dad left, I watched her when Mom was at work. If Mom was on a binge, I’d make us sandwiches. When she’d fight with her friends, I’d hang out with her until they made up. I’d help her with her homework, which, uh…maybe wasn’t a good thing, but the point is that it got done.” 

He shifted uncomfortably, fidgeting by scratching his neck. “Now, though, it’s like… her dad goes from seeing her every weekend to twice a year- where the fuck am I? She’s fighting with Mom over some dumb shit- where the fuck am I? She starts dating some jackass who treats her like shit and alienates her from her friends- where the fuck am I? Oh, right! I’m here doing some dumb ‘superhero’ shit!” 

He’s ranting again, increasingly frantic and intense. “So now she has no reason to think I even give a fuck anymore, so when I tell her she should just come here, of course she’s gonna say no! Like, what sixteen-year-old wants their grown-up loser brother keeping tabs on them all the time? Why the fuck would she wanna be here if that’s where I am? So I fucked everything up for her by leaving, and now I’m fucking everything up for her by staying. Seriously, at this point I should probably just leave, if there’s a chance that might change her mind. She’s _young_ and _smart_ and still has a _chance_ \- she’d fit in so well and actually make something of herself. And I’m essentially a write-off, anyways- I’ve had almost thirty years to figure my shit out and I’m still just fucking up and dragging people down with me. I can’t even hold down a normal fucking job. I’m just wasting time and occupying space, and everyone I know is worse for it. I-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Peter’s mouth hung open in shock as his head swung towards Jubilee. She walked on her knees behind him, and he didn’t know how to react when she slipped her arms under his to wrap around his chest and essentially started to lug him onto the bed. “Uh, what-” 

“You heard me. Zip it.” she replied flatly as she pulled on him again. “Just stop. Like, be quiet.” she reiterated before moving them both towards the center of the mattress. Once there, she pulled him down from his sitting position so he was lying on his side with her still behind him, arms still around his chest. 

He did nothing to protest as she settled herself into a position comfortable for both of them, nestled against his back, body aligned with his, hugging him to her with her fingers twisting the soft material of his t-shirt. 

“Shhh, that’s it. Just shut your mouth.” she breathed softly into the back of his neck. Stiffly, he brought his hands up to entwine his fingers with hers, and his heart might still be pounding, but maybe for a different reason. “Just shut up and be the little spoon.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter's title is actually from a song that I remember hearing when I used to go to church as a kid. It's by Dan Schutte and it's called "I Found the Treasure." (1985) The full lyric is "I found the treasure in a field, that neither time nor death can steal. I will sell what I have, give all that I am, to hold this treasure as my own." It's about the Parable of the Hidden Treasure, a story in the Bible that essentially boils down to how the Kingdom of Heaven is worth any price/sacrifice. I decided to use it because it would be a common song/ theme in a Catholic church service (where part of the chapter takes place) but also because in a non-religious, non-spiritual way, it makes reference to various characters identifying something unexpectedly precious in their lives, that they see as worthwhile fighting for.   
> Also, one thing different in this chapter is that I provided translation for some of the non-English conversation. Previously I haven't done this, and this was because the words used were either brief one-or-two word snippets of a whole English conversation, or their meaning was not necessary to understand the plot. This time, the whole conversation is in Swahili, so I provided the (probably crap- I just used google) translation in brackets.   
> Next up: Porn, essentially. The next chapter is mostly porn.


	33. She Broke Your Throne, She Cut Your Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After spending a nice day together, Ororo and Kurt try to do homework.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special delivery. It's that porn you ordered.

Kurt and Ororo sat on opposite ends of her large window seat, each picking away at their homework in companionable silence. The sun was almost all the way down, and so Ororo worked under the light cast from a single stand-up lamp, while Kurt remained in ever-increasing darkness. She flipped through the pages of a book and made a few notes in her scribbler, and glanced up with a raised eyebrow when she heard him frantically erasing something with a frustrated groan before swiping the eraser debris away.

She shifted to uncurl her leg from under her and stretched out to poke at the top of his foot with her toe. Bright eyes shot up to meet hers. “I had a good day today.” she said pleasantly.      

He returned a polite smile. “I’m glad. The way it started, I thought it was going to be bad.”

She tucked her scribbler into the book and set it down, holding his gaze. She continued to run her toe across his foot and up his ankle. “That’s what I mean. I could have had a very bad day, but you insisted on making it a good one.”

He laughed quietly and tapped his pencil on his math assignment. “Well, all I did was drag you to church and then we did some light shopping. If only everyone was as easy to please as you!”

“It wasn’t that simple, and you know it. So thank you.”

He smiled shyly and looked back at his math assignment. They each returned to their homework for a few minutes, until she looked up again to find him mashing the buttons of his calculator with another frustrated groan.

“Um, Ororo? Can I set this next to you?” he finally asked, waving his calculator. “I don’t require light to work, but apparently this _verdammt_ thing does _.”_    

She took it out of his hands with a smile. “Of course. You deserve a break from it, anyway.”

“ _Danke_.”

He set his study materials aside and brought his knees up to his chest, hands on his knees. “What are you working on?” he asked curiously after watching her for some time.

“Oh! This! This is actually possibly my final-ever English assignment!” Ororo stated proudly. “Especially considering that I got an excellent grade on my _Frankenstein_  report, thanks to you.”

“I knew you would. What is this new report about?”

“It’s a a bit more involved than a simple book report, because it is the final project. We have to write an analysis that compares and contrasts different concepts in literature. We were allowed to pick our own topics.” He tilted his head, waiting expectantly. “I decided to go with how romance has been written over history, with a focus on how it’s different when the protagonist is a man or woman.”

Kurt nodded slowly. “That is a big topic.”

“Hmm. Well, I’ve been in a romantic mood recently.” She replied with a sly glance. She then held up the book in her hand with a smirk. “Plus, I don’t care what Jean says! I’m using _The Delta of Venus_  as an example. What’s my teacher going to do? Blush herself to death?”

Kurt laughed and took the book from her hand, and started reading the back cover. She held the end of her pen between her teeth for a second before saying “Although I may have bitten off more than I can chew. I have no problem finding modern examples, but older ones are rarer. In particular, ones that address both male and female perspectives.”

Kurt set her book down and drummed his fingers on his knee. “Would you like some help?”

“Oh? Do you have a secret stash of very old romance novels hidden somewhere?”

“Not exactly, but I may have something.” She gave a small shrug and he teleported away, returning seconds later with a book. She couldn’t help but laugh when a small, well-worn copy of ‘ _The Holy Bible_ ’ was placed into her hand.  

“Really?” she said, still laughing. “You read one page of ‘ _The Delta of Venus_ ’ and you decide that I need Jesus?”

“No!” he insisted, trying not to laugh himself. “I’m being serious. There is a section in there that I think you could use.”

“Hmm. The readings at your church today did not seem overly romantic.” He crossed his arms and gave a look and she sighed. “Alright, fine. What page is it on?”

He plucked the book out of her hand. “It’s easier if I just…” he muttered as he flipped through the pages and handed the open book back to her. “It’s called ‘ _The Song of Songs_.’”

She started to read through what appeared to be a love poem that alternated between a male and female speaker, ostensibly a pair of young lovers. Vivid declarations of love, desire, lust, and longing played out as she made her way through the text. “There are many references to livestock.” she noted as she turned the page.

“Heh. _Ja_. Well…” Kurt stammered awkwardly and scratched behind his ear. “The couple in the story are just ordinary people. The young man is a shepherd, so maybe he thinks about farm animals a lot? Anything in the story about royalty is just referencing how these two simple people are exalted by the way they feel about one another, and in turn, about themselves.”  

“Hmm. I see…” she continued reading, sometimes re-reading sections in order to be sure they were saying what she _thought_  they were saying. “I think I’ll be able to use this. Some scenes are very…um, evocative.” she said diplomatically. “I wouldn’t have expected something like this to be in here. I thought your religion valued chastity?”

“It does, but-” he started to explain, with his gaze downcast and his tail curling and uncurling slowly beside him. “the way this couple feels for each other is natural. Human. It’s been suggested that the purpose of this passage is to show that all love, even sensual love and physical desire, are gifts from God.”

“You’re pretty familiar with this story.” she stated plainly. She leaned her head back and watched him- his posture increasingly bashful but his tail betraying him again.

“ _Ja_ , I’ve…been reading it a lot recently.” He fidgets with his hands, linked around his knees, but his tail curves onto the window seat and wraps loosely around her ankle.

“Oh? Any part in particular catch your interest?” She extended her arm towards him, holding the book open with her thumb.

He looks up to meet her eyes, posture straightening, but does not take the book out of her hand. “’ _I am a rose of Sharon, a lily of the valleys. As a lily among brambles, so is my love among maidens._ ’” he recalled by heart, his accent rounding out the words. He quickly looks away again, almost guiltily. “That part has always made me think of you. Not just now. Since I’ve known you.” 

She took a slow breath, and tried to ignore her face heating up and her heart beating faster. She looked again at the book in her hand. “’ _As an apple tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among young men. With great delight I sat in his shadow, and his fruit was sweet to my_ _taste_.’” she read in response, peeking up over the text to see his reaction. His shyly averted gaze is starkly contrasted to how his tail tightens around and tugs her ankle, and when she moves towards his side of the window seat, he abandons all delusions of reserve. He opens his arms to her, stretching out his legs so she could curl up against his chest, hugging her to him with arm and tail once she was settled. She can feel his heart pounding. She re-opens the book, and reached up to trace his jawline with her fingertips as she read, “’ _O_ _h,_ _that his left hand were under my head,_ _and that his right hand embraced me!_ ’”

She looked up at him while still touching his face, and the fading evening light is reflected by heavy-lidded eyes. He holds her snugly, with the tip of his tail gently tracing patterns over her back, but she can feel the heat of something just under the surface.

“Although, if you wanted to know which part makes me think of _you_ …” she said, just above a whisper, as she flipped through pages. He turned to her, seeming a little surprised, and gives his undivided attention. Once she finished finding the right page, he held her now-free hand, lacing their fingers together. “’ _Upon my bed by night_ _,_ _I sought him whom my soul loves_ _._ _I sought him, but found him not_ _._ _I called him, but he gave no answer_.’”

She can hear him take a slow, deep breath, and she set the book down and turned in his embrace to face him, bringing herself up on her knees and taking his face in her hands. “’ _Scarcely had I passed them,_ _when I found him whom my soul loves._ ’” The tail around her waist tightened possessively, and he ran one hand down her back, and wrapped the other around her wrist. His eyes are so wide now and staring into hers and his mouth is parted, open, and waiting. She leans even closer, their foreheads almost touching. “’ _I held him, and would not let him go_.’”

As soon as had the words left her mouth, he tilted his head up to kiss her- slowly at first, as if he’s waiting to see if she actually _meant it_. She opened her mouth and ran her fingers through his hair, straddling his lap. The way he responded was urgent, verging on desperate- wrapping his arms around her and pulling her as close as he could, thrusting his tongue into her mouth and grasping at the fabric of her shirt. She felt a thrill building up inside her, mind racing at the possibility of what could happen if he doesn’t get shy or anxious like he always did. She rolled her hips into his lap, and he pushed back against her with a quiet groan. She broke the kiss to gasp for air, and he moved to kiss her neck and shoulder while gripping her hips. She curled her fingers into his hair behind his ear and pulled his head back, his eyes snapping up to meet hers. “Bed?”

The word had hardly left her mouth and they were there. She landed on her back on the bedspread with a laugh and a small bounce. Over her, he caught his weight on his knees and forearm and she reached up to pull him down on top of her and wrapped her legs around his hips. They kept at it, making out with hands roaming everywhere, until the hot, prickly sensation of far too much fabric became too much to bear. Especially considering they were both still dressed in relatively-conservative church-appropriate attire. He had managed to snake his tail underneath the skirt and blouse she wore, but she was having a much harder time with his outfit, and had started pulling roughly on his shirt. After she gave a noticeably frustrated tug on a fistful of fabric at his lower back, he laughed quietly and brought himself up on his knees to pull the garment over his head.

In the cast-off light from her lamp, every swell of muscle, every curving scar is highlighted. She sat up to run her flat palms greedily up his narrow waist and defined ribcage while he raised his arms over his head to pull his shirt off, only to have him curl up ticklishly as she dragged her blunt nails back down his body. She pitched forward, resting her head against his abdomen, breathing in the unique, smokey scent of him. Her hands wandered over him, as his ran across her shoulders, and she kissed and nipped at the sensitive flesh below his sternum. She bit at him again, causing him to hunch over with a surprised laugh, twisting his fingers in her hair. She laughed to herself and moved one hand to stroke his obvious erection through his thick, cumbersome church slacks, while the other hand worked on his belt buckle. He hissed, eyes shut, and fell down to the side when she finally finished undoing his belt and pants and resumed touching him over thin cotton boxers.

They on their sides facing each other, and he moved forward to kiss her again, slow and deep, holding her head in his hands. She ran her hand down his side and gripped the loosened material of his undone slacks, trying to gently nudge them down. He pulled back to look at her, hands still on her face, and inhaled slowly until he started unbuttoning the buttons of her blouse one by one. He did this carefully and hesitantly, brows knitted together in concentration. Meanwhile, she went back to somewhat ungracefully trying to get him out of his pants. His tail seemed more on her wavelength, though- having slid around her thigh and under the waistband of her underwear and skirt to try and tug them both down. Once he had finished the last button, there was a flurry of activity- she unzipped the side of her skirt so he could pull it off with his tail, which then allowed her to push his pants off, once he unraveled his tail from her leg and pulled it back through the hole in his slacks and underwear. As she heard his belt clatter to the floor, she quickly unfastened her front-clasp bra and threw it and her blouse to the side as well.

He looked back up to find her reclining fully nude before him, waiting for his reaction. He reached out, mouth slightly parted and eyes trailing over her body, to gently run his trembling knuckles over her side and down her thigh. It was strangely intense, to be taken in like that- not leered or gawked at, just regarded with a pure, almost reverent adoration. This was compounded by her realization that in the fading evening light, he could see her much more clearly that she could see him.

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” she finally commented, just to break the spell.

He tilted his head slightly, eyes meeting hers. “You are more beautiful every time that I see you.”

Somehow, it’s not just a line. “Come here.” she commands with a warm smile, and she opens her arms to him- not just her arms. She wrapped her legs around his hips as soon as he’s close enough and pulled him onto her. He easily complies, taking his weight on his forearm and kissing her face as his tail traced over her bare thigh. They stayed like that, touching each other, playful and affectionate, talking only through a mix of soft moans and the odd burst of possibly-nervous laughter.

They had never done anything like this before, never anything quite this intimate. But now, for whatever reason, there seemed to be nothing stopping them. He kissed down her neck at the same instant he pressed his hand into the back of her thigh, hiking her leg up. Her hands sprawl over his back, digging her nails in when he lets the spade of his tail slip between her thighs to tease her. She arched up against him, suddenly more aware of his cock, throbbing hard and ready, pressed against her lower belly. Acting on instinct, she shifted under him and reached down to take him in-hand, and slid her other hand down to his lower back, kneading her fingers into the muscled area around the base of his tail. He froze, and his eyes, the brightest thing in the room, flicked up to meet hers. She can practically see the wave of apprehension wash over his face, mouth open as they both panted into the narrow space between them. But then it was gone- he swallowed it in favour of ducking down to plant a soft kiss at the corner of her mouth.

Only a sudden pang of worry stops her. Was he going to do this because he wanted to, or because he thought that was what she wanted? Was she about to take something from him that couldn’t be given back? She scraped together every iota of self control she had to push him away from her.

“Wait-” she said, her hand on his shoulder. “Is this what you want?”

He gave a perplexed, somewhat amused smile. “Of course, _Schatz_.”

“It’s just- When we were at your church today, you just seemed so…And yes, I know that you had said-” she stammered, struggling to get her thoughts together while kicking herself for deciding to have this conversation _now_. “If saving yourself for marriage is something you’re really _supposed to do_ \- if it’s something you _actually want_ , then that’s what you deserve. You shouldn’t settle. Not for me and not for anyone.”

He had sat up a little, and looked down at her with his head tilted and a small smirk. “I would actually like to meet the man who thinks of being with you as ‘settling.’”

She gripped his forearm, perhaps a little firmer than was necessary. “Please, Kurt. I’m being serious.”

At some point, the bed covers had become a tangled, piled up mess, and he absentmindedly fixed them, pulling them up over them both with a sigh. “ _Ja_ , I know, I-” He picked her hand up in both of his and held it to his chest. “I don’t think about that anymore. I only want you.”       

“Yes, perhaps that’s true _now_ , but what about-” she pressed, now rambling. “What if you meet a girl from your church, or from back where you were born… Is it going to be a problem if- I mean, am I going to _ruin you_  for other women? I-”

“ _M_ _eine geliebte_ , you could never ruin anything.”

The look in his eyes answered every question, it was so raw, so open, so full of trust and desire. It was all she needed to see and she surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him down on top of her.

They worked to rearrange themselves quickly, as if they both felt the need to make up for lost time. She pressed her thighs against his as he eagerly, nervously kissed her mouth, her face, her hands. He stilled when she reached between them to take him in-hand again, guiding him to where she wanted him. He held his breath and placed a hand on her hip to slowly, gently start pushing into her, but she had run out of patience. She was throbbing, practically aching, and the current pace was killing her- she wrapped her legs around his hips and grabbed his lower back, pulling him fully into her with a single thrust. They both gasped.

She kissed his jawline and rolled her hips under him, keeping her hands on his back to help set an easy rhythm. He caught on quickly, and he wrapped his tail, warm and firm, around her thigh, squeezing and stroking sensitive skin. His eyes slipped shut, lost in intense, indescribable sensation, and a hushed litany of soft moans and heavy breathing is the only thing either of them hear.

Goddess, it feels so good. It feels amazing, after having waited so, so long. He follows her lead, and she tilts her hips to meet every thrust. She breathed the word “Harder.” in his ear and he hiked her leg up higher with his tail to try and get deeper. She threw her head back and raked her nails down his back, feeling the taut muscle shift under ornately decorated flesh, and dug her fingers into the muscle around the base of his tail. He immediately groaned into her shoulder and muttered words that she didn’t recognize but sounded incendiary.

She can feel the beginning of her climax forming in her belly, a slowly building heat. She knows what she needs but isn’t sure if she can get it. He moves like he’s afraid he might hurt her, not quite as hard or as fast as she’d like. She moves her hands to his face and kisses him, just to get his attention.

“We’re going to roll over, okay?” she explains and he nods once.

She sits up as soon as he’s on his back, but he can’t stand not touching her, so he sits up too, crossing his legs and wrapping his tail around her waist. She threw her arms loosely over his shoulders and braced her knees on the bed, tipping her head back with a contented sigh as she started moving up and down his length at a much harsher pace than before. He grabbed her hips in shock, following the undulating movement of her body. Her eyes were closed now as she moved faster, feeding the rising tension withing her, chasing that incredible, ever-increasing sensation. She twisted her fingers into his hair and pressed her forehead to his, moaning openly into the space between them. Her eyes are still shut but she can feel his on her, as well as the points of his nails digging into the flesh of her thigh, gripping her to pull her down on him. It hits her all at once, and then wave after wave afterwards- her harsh cry dissipated into a series of throaty moans.

When she finally collapsed bonelessly on him, he took her face in her hands and kissed her, sloppy and needy, before burying his face in her shoulder and wrapping his arms around her. She hugged his neck and let him set the pace, the tension in his back and shoulders telling her it wasn’t going to be long. The rhythm was steady and deep, sending aftershocks through her sensitized body. His breathing became increasingly ragged, and he held her tight, as close as he could, closer than anyone ever had, until he stiffens with a final thrust, his sudden groan muffled mostly by her shoulder. She can briefly, just barely, feel the points of his teeth on her shoulder, but there’s no pressure behind them.

They clung to each other, panting hard, until Ororo allowed herself to collapse back onto the bed, sprawling out on her side. Kurt quickly followed suit while dutifully pulling the blanket up around them. The late-evening breeze from the window had developed a slight chill. She let her eyes close, relaxing totally, fully aware he was watching her. He let the spade of his tail trace across the palm of her hand, and she smiled, eyes still shut, as she let her fingers curl loosely around it.

“Ororo?” she just barely heard, seconds before she actually fell asleep. She huffed a small laugh before opening her eyes. He met her gaze, warm and sincere. “Thank you.”

She laughed again, tightening her grip affectionately on his tail. “Well, it’s not like I did you a favor. You know I’ve wanted this for some time.”

He smirked and snaked his tail up her forearm. “But still! You’re very patient.”

She reached out to set her hand on his cheek. “You were worth the wait.” He relaxed under the contact, suddenly looking very relieved. It takes all the motivation in the world to pull her hand away and sit up on the edge of the bed.

“I just need to run to the ladies’ room, to take off my makeup and get ready for bed.” she explained as she quickly threw on a nightgown and her silky robe. The short nightgown was a sleek satin lingerie-style slip that was almost the same crystal blue as her eyes. She had bought it on impulse, back when she was still mulling over Jubilee’s ‘just answer the door naked’ advice as a seduction tactic. A sideways glance at Kurt staring and nodding dimly to everything she said seemed to suggest it may have actually worked. “I’ll just be a minute!” she called out as she left the room.

******

Ororo stood at the sink of the girl’s dorm bathroom, just having finished washing her face when Jubilee sauntered in, acknowledging her with a mumbled “Hey.” and immediately applying toothpaste to her toothbrush. Ororo nodded back and Jubilee paused with her toothbrush inches from her face, eyeing Ororo’s outfit, which was a stark contrast to her ratty ‘ELO’ t-shirt and plaid pajama shorts.

“Omigawd, ‘Ro, I love your nightgown!” she gushed, gesturing towards Ororo’s chest. “The color really brings out your eyes, and the neckline really brings out your rack.”

“That’s why I bought it.” Ororo replied with a slight smirk.

“Wait…” Jubilee looked Ororo up and down analytically for a few seconds, cogs in her head turning. “You’re dressed to fuck, but you’re taking your makeup _off_ …Holy shit. Holy shit!” Jubilee shook her fists in excitement as Ororo raised an eyebrow. “You slut!” she squealed.

“Excuse me?!”

“No, like, I mean, I’m super happy for you!” Jubilee reiterated as Ororo crossed her arms. “Like, _finally_! Omigawd, this is wild!”

“Um, alright. Thank you?” Ororo continued to stand with her arms crossed while Jubilee worked through whatever series of emotions she was having.

“We gotta get Jean in here. She’ll wanna know about this.” Jubilee insisted, motioning for Ororo to hold still with one finger.

“She can know about it when we talk to her _tomorrow_.” Ororo replied flatly.

“Nah, hang on. I’ll just get her now. I’ll call her on the ol’ brain phone…” Jubilee closed her eyes in concentration, trying to psychically contact Jean.

“Jubilee, she is probably asleep!”

“Pfft, who cares!” Jubilee scoffed. She held a hand up to silence Ororo before she could respond, deep in concentration. Finally, she perked up. “She’ll be here in a sec!”

Minutes later, Jean entered the bathroom, looking exhausted and bleary-eyed. She had her _Fraggle Rock_  nightshirt and terrycloth bathrobe on. “This had better be fucking good.” she grumbled, squinting in the bright bathroom lights.

“Wow, Jean. I’m really digging this _Fraggle_  number. I’m shocked Scott hasn’t torn it off you in a fit of uncontrollable lust.” Jubilee said sarcastically after an appraising glance.  

“Wouldn’t talk. That’s not even your shirt, and it was manufactured before you were born.” Jean shot back before rubbing her eyes. “Is this seriously why you woke me up?”  

Jubilee grinned and motioned both hands towards Jean. “Guess who got laid?” Ororo rolled her eyes.

Jean tipped her head back and dragged both hands wearily down the side of her face. “Jesus Christ, Jubes. If you’re gonna start waking me up every time you have sex, then not only am I going to die of sleep deprivation, but I’m going to be cranky the whole time I’m dying.”

Jubilee furrowed her brow in confusion for a brief second, before giving a small shrug. “Not me. Her.” she clarified, jerking her thumb towards Ororo, who was now shaking her head.

“Ah! Oh my God!” Jean squealed. “That’s amazing! Oh my God!” She extended her arms towards Ororo, but then quickly withdrew them. “I wanna hug you, but you’re, like, probably all sweaty…”

Ororo laughed and rubbed her forehead. “Thank you. That’s fine.”

Jean leaned back against the sink, crossing her arms and regarding Ororo with approval. “Now, I gotta know. How did you actually manage this modern-day miracle?”

Ororo gave a casual shrug and looked at her fingernails. “Well, it turns out all I had to do was read him the _erotic_  parts of the Bible.”

“...Whoa.” Jubilee breathed with her mouth hanging open.

Jean nodded, clearly impressed. “I gotta hand it to you, ‘Ro. This whole time I thought you sucked at Checkers, you were actually winning at Chess.”

Ororo smiled and stood taller, arms crossed. “You see? You were both wrong to doubt me.”

“Clearly.” Jean confirmed. “Soooo…” she continued, with a sly look. “How was it?’

Ororo glanced upwards in consideration. “It was…really good. All things considered. It did start off a little slow, but once I got on top and set the pace…”

Jean nodded along. “Yeah, that’s usually the way.”

“Yeah, unless you’re, like, on top and, uh, _the guy you're with_  decides that this is a golden opportunity to twist your _entire fucking titty_  off.” Jubilee interjected. “And you’re like ‘Ow! You prick!’ and do it back to them-” She thrust her arm into the space between her friends and twisted her hand as if she was turning the ignition of a car. “and he’s just like ‘Uuhhnn…fuck yeah!’ and you’re like ‘Don’t you _like that!_  I’m trying to teach you a lesson!’ and he’s like ‘Uh yeah teach me harder!’…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Fucking bogus.”

Jean and Ororo exchanged conspicuous glances. “It’s a good thing she’s speaking hypothetically, so we don’t actually have to picture that exact thing happening in agonizing detail.” Jean finally said, dryly sarcastic.

“Hmm. Yes, that was considerate of her.” Ororo agreed flatly.

Jubilee gave a slight shrug and played with the end of her pigtail. Ororo picked up the bag she kept her toiletries in. “Now, if that’s all, ladies, I should get going.” she said, tightening the belt of her robe. “He’s still in my room, and I don’t want him thinking I got lost.”

“And, so, like, what’s the plan now? You guys gonna keep plowing, or are you gonna ditch him now that you got what you came for?” Jubilee pressed, twisting her pigtail and tapping her foot.

Ororo gasped. “Of course not! It was never my intention to…to…”

“Hit it and quit it?” Jean offered.

“Yes, I guess-”

“Fuck ‘em and chuck ‘em?” Jubilee added helpfully.

“In as many words, I suppose.” Ororo replied with a slightly disgusted look.

“Hit the sack, then sneak out the back?”

“Top it off and drop it off?”

“Please stop.”

“Cum and go?”

“Nail it, then high-tail it?”

“You’re both terrible.”

“Nut and bolt?”

“Blow your load, then hit the road?”

“Now that one only makes sense for men.” Ororo pointed out with a stern nod.

“Fair enough.” Jean conceded.

“Are we done here?” Ororo asked wearily.

“Wait! I got one more!” Jubilee insisted, jumping up and down. Ororo groaned. “Bag it and tag it!” Jubilee stated triumphantly.

“That’s a little esoteric.” Jean said with a disinterested shrug.

“Yeah, not my best one.” Jubilee admitted.

“Well.” Ororo stated, adjusting her robe. “You two are more than welcome to stay here and have fun by yourselves, but I’m leaving.”

“’Night! Don’t stay up too late!” Jean called after her as she marched out of the bathroom.

******

Ororo snuck quietly back into her room, half-expecting Kurt to be asleep by now. She looked towards her bed to find him, sitting cross-legged and now wearing his boxers, in almost complete darkness, flipping through her copy of _The Delta of Venus_. He turned to her as soon as he heard the doorknob turn, and his face lit up when he saw her.

“Sorry I took so long! I got stuck in a conversation…” she explained, taking her robe off and throwing it over the foot of the bed. She leaned in for a quick kiss as she climbed into bed next to him.

Again, he’s mesmerized by her nightgown. “This is very pretty.” he finally said.

She grabbed his hand and placed it on her satin-covered thigh. “If you think it _looks_  good, you should _feel_  it.” She laughed when he slid his hand up her side, bringing it to her chin to kiss her again. “Honestly, I though I’d find you asleep in here. “

“Heh. Um…” He looked around awkwardly, picking at the bedspread. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted me to stay or not. It’s okay if you don’t.”

“Oh, I do!” she insisted, grabbing his hand again. “I had assumed that you would. You don’t have to, though- like if you had trouble sleeping out of a hammock, I would understand.”

Kurt scoffed and grinned. “Ororo, I can sleep on any surface that isn’t rusty knives or angry hornets.”

She beamed, and immediately started pulling back the covers so they could get comfortable. She paused in confusion when he hopped off the edge of the bed, but relaxed when she saw him kneel at it’s side, elbows on the mattress and palms pressed together.

“Praying for something in particular?” she asked as she maneuvered herself under the covers.

“Not really. I do this every night.” he explained, before closing his eyes and muttering rapid, hushed words she assumed were German.

She watched him silently until there seemed to be a break in his speech. “Will you put in a good word for me?” she asked with an impish smile.

“I always do.” he replied instantly, peeking out of one eye.

When he finished, he climbed back into the bed, gathering her up in his arms. They settled into a comfortable position, with his tail wrapped loosely around her ankle and his breath ruffling her hair.

“Goodnight.”

“ _Schlaf_ _sch_ _ö_ _n_.”

******

She awoke, as usual, as soon as morning light crept in her window. She rubbed her eyes and stretched, noting suddenly that she had managed to sprawl over at least seventy percent of the bed. A split-second of worry that Kurt had left in the night was instantly relieved when she felt his tail passively shift around her calf. She glanced to her side to see that his previously stated fear of rolling out of a conventional bed was probably legitimate. He lay on his side at the very edge of the mattress, his back to her and one arm and one leg dangling over the side.

She scooted closer to him, laying behind him, just shy of actually touching him. She watched the slow, steady rise and fall of his ribs, suggesting he was still deeply asleep. She reached out and slid her hand over his hip, across his stomach and up his chest, and smirked to herself when she feels him twitch suddenly, and the flesh under her fingertips just barely begin to dissipate, with subtle black tendrils of smoke appearing on his skin. Then, a fraction of a second later, it’s as if it never happened, and he grasps her hand, entwining his fingers with hers, and pulls it to his face to plant a soft kiss on her palm.

She laughed softly into the space between his shoulder blades. “Forgot where you were for a second?” she asked teasingly.

“Hmm. More like I forgot I didn’t just dream it all.”

She moved closer, pressing herself up against him with a contented sigh, and kissed the back of his neck. He released her hand but tightened his tail around her leg, which had become tangled with his. She trailed her hand lazily across his torso, both of them relaxing completely until she started to think she might actually fall back asleep. Eventually, though, curiosity got the better of her, and she sneakily let her hand slip below the elastic of his boxers, wrapping her fingers around him. She was pleased, but not entirely surprised, to find that he’s already hard. Men are so predictable.

“We could-” she started quietly, as she began gently stroking him. “There’s time, if you want…”

He managed a surprised laugh. “Have you considered that you’re insatiable?”

“Have you considered that you’re irresistible?”

He laughed again, and turned to face her. By wordless agreement, they both set about getting his boxers off in a hurry, after which he pulled her closer, holding her body to his.

“I’d like to try something a little different…” she whispered, before turning over in his arms and pressing her back to his chest. She hiked up her nightgown and hooked her thigh over his hip, slowly lowering herself onto his erection. He held his breath, his forehead resting against the back of her head, his hand stilled on her hip, until she started to move. Together, they fell into an easy, relaxed pace- the nervousness of their previous encounter long gone. She reached up to take a firm grip on his hair as he trailed his hands all over her body, slipping under her bunched-up nightgown. With a sudden motion, his tail secured itself around her upper thigh, raising it up higher.

“Can I, ah-” she heard him ask tentatively, apparently struggling to form a sentence. “Can I touch you with my tail?”

Now, why hadn’t she thought of that? “Please.” she breathed emphatically. Once she felt the spade slip between her legs, it was soon too much to handle, and she came hard, her voice only partially muffled by her pillow. He followed soon after, gasping and clutching at her.     

After only a few minutes the harsh reality of a day full of training sessions and Danger Room scenarios forced them to begrudgingly start getting dressed.

“So, I guess we just go to class and try to pretend like everything is normal?” Kurt remarked as he finished buttoning the last few buttons on his shirt.

Ororo scoffed and stood in front of him, reaching up to fix his collar with a warm, knowing smile. “This _is_  normal. You’ll see.”

Even after everything, he blushed and averted his eyes. He caught both her hands in his, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “I’ll see you in class.” he muttered quickly, before briefly pressing his forehead to hers and then teleporting away.

******

Kurt teleported into the boy’s locker room, confident that no one would notice that he was still wearing yesterday’s clothes. Incredibly, he managed to both shower and brush his teeth completely unnoticed. When he went to fetch his practice uniform from his locker, however, he shouted involuntarily when he closed his locker door to find that a towel-clad Peter had appeared behind it, staring at him with his arms crossed.

Peter was undisturbed by Kurt’s reaction. “So, uh, a little bird told me something interesting…” he said, chewing his gum while watching Kurt try to regain his bearings.

“Oh? A talking bird?” Kurt replied innocently, face lighting up. “That _is_  interesting. I’ve read of such things but have never seen it myself. Was it outside or in a pet store?” He clutched his hands together, eagerly awaiting Peter’s response.  

Peter stood dumbfounded and scowled. “Um, I’m just talking about Jubes.”

“Oh!” Kurt exclaimed, still delighted. “Is that your nickname for her? Little Bird? _Vöglein._  Very cute.”

Peter dropped his arms to his sides, shaking his head in frustration. He glanced pleadingly towards Scott, who had just gotten out of the shower and was now shaving at the sink. Scott, who had not been paying attention at all, just shrugged and turned back to the mirror.

“Jubes told me you and ‘Ro fucked.” Peter stated, with a hint of exasperation. He crossed his arms loosely, bracing himself for a reaction.

Kurt reeled back with a gasp. “ _WAS_?! How would she know that!?”

Peter, finally satisfied, gave a nonchalant shrug. “She ran into ‘Ro in the bathroom. Girls got a sixth sense about that kinda thing. They had a whole girl meeting about it.” He paused to point at Scott, who was now frozen at the sink, with his razor held inches from his face and half his jaw still covered in shaving cream. “Jean was there too.”

Scott gave an annoyed scoff and let his razor clatter into the sink. “Why am I always the last one to know everything?”

“There is no reason for anyone to know anything!” Kurt exclaimed, quickly blushing purple and clutching his practice uniform to him. His tail whipped about, smacking the locker door with a metallic thud.

Peter ignored him and soldiered on. “So, now, you just gotta tell us, like, _everything_ -”    

“ _Nein_. I will tell you ****nothing****.” Kurt practically hissed.

“Just answer a few simple yes-or-no questions…”

“I’m not falling for that again.”

“Okay, okay.” Peter held his hands up. Kurt took a deep breath and visibly calmed. Peter took this as a cue to continue. “So- we get that it was your first time and all, but were you able to last more than twenty seconds?”

Kurt stiffened and grit his teeth in annoyance. “ _Ja_ , I beat your record.”

Scott threw his head back and laughed. Peter crossed his arms and turned away, leaning back against the lockers and shaking his head. “I, uh, guess I kinda walked into that one…”

“I would say you _ran_  into it, _prematurely_.” Scott said with a smirk.

“Okay, yes, you’re all very funny.” Peter replied after rolling his eyes. He turned back to Kurt and pointed at him. “Just because you’ve had sex _once_  doesn’t mean you get to have an attitude.”

“Twice.” Kurt corrected quietly, without looking up from fastening the belt of his uniform.  

“Huh?”

“Last night, and again this morning.”

“Nice.” Scott commented with a nod while Peter scowled slightly. “Sounds like ‘Ro’s looking to make up for lost time.”

Kurt shrugged and grabbed his gloves out of his locker. “She also wants me to go back to her room after dinner tonight. Do you think that’s why?”

Scott laughed as he packed away his shaving supplies and walked over to his locker. “Uh, yeah. Probably.” He clapped his hand onto Kurt’s shoulder. “I’d say the next few weeks of your life are going to be pretty intense. Try to keep hydrated.”

Kurt’s expression fell and he leaned towards Scott. “What happens after that?” he whispered in a dire tone.

Scott frowned and pulled back, shaking his head slightly. “Um, probably nothing? Most couples just fall into a routine of having sex _regularly_  instead of _constantly._ ” He gave Kurt’s shoulder a small shake. “Just stop worrying, man. You’re gonna ruin the best things in your life by worrying.”   

“Okay. Thank you.”

Scott went back to rummage through his locker while Kurt sat on the bench to get his gloves and boots on. Peter continued to sulk and procrastinate. Scott leaned out of his locker and turned towards Kurt, having just traded his everyday glasses for his visor. “I will ask you one question, though. Keep it mind I’m not Peter, so it’s not that gross…”

“I’m not gross.” Peter muttered indignantly as Kurt nodded and waited patiently.

“So I’m just curious- why now? Why not Thursday or last week or last month?”

Kurt lowered his head in thought, hand on his chin, as Scott walked over to the bench and sat next to him. “Hmm. I guess it just seemed like the thing to do? We’ve never had a serious talk about how we felt about each other, but she was working on some English homework, and I tried to help by bringing her a- I guess a sort of poem- that meant a lot to me. When it seemed like she thought the same way about it that I did, it- I don’t know. It answered a lot of questions I didn’t know that I had. Does that make sense?”

“Nope!” Peter chimed in as Scott nodded thoughtfully.

“I think so. At the very least, it’s a sweet, personal gesture. Like giving a girl your coat to wear, or making her a mixed tape.” Scott concluded.

“Dude! Holy fuck!” Peter exclaimed. “Making a chick a mixed tape is just like- like you might as well carve your fuckin’ chest open and hand her your still-beating heart!”

“Seriously, man? Come on.” Scott responded skeptically. “It’s just recording some corny love songs off the radio.”

“Maybe for you, cuz you got no imagination.” Peter accused. Kurt tilted his head and watched the increasingly intense exchange with interest. “Like, think of it this way: You could stick your dick in _anything_ , but-”

“But we haven’t, and we don’t want to.” Kurt corrected quietly.

“I’d at least like some assurance that we’re talking about another human being, and not, like, a bagel…” Scott pleaded.

Peter made a face and flitted his hands about mockingly before continuing. “Anyways. Fucking someone is like ‘Okay. That’s nice.’ but making a girl a mixed tape is, like, _sooo_  personal. It’s like- you gotta _dredge_  the very _depths_  of your _soul_. To come up with the perfect song combinations that capture what you feel…”

Scott and Kurt glanced at each other in confusion. Peter continued unabated. “Like, you could even arrange the songs in the perfect order- like a concept album! Like ‘ _The Wall_ ’ except instead of being about self-imposed isolation, it’s like _the opposite of that_ \- like, how your feelings for this chick make you wanna be _better-”_

 _“_ Peter…” Kurt interrupted Peter’s ranting politely. “Are you saying I should make Ororo a mixed tape?”   

Peter scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Kurt. “Pfft! No! Not you!” he replied, frowning. “Your taste in music _fucking sucks_.”  

Kurt took a deep breath and laced his hands together, pointedly turning to Scott. “So, how was it that you and Jean decided to take that step in your relationship, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, sure! Um…” Scott smiled in recollection. “Basically, we’d just gotten back from a date that had gone pretty well. We were making out in her room, and she’s just like ‘Hey, do you wanna have sex?’ and I’m like ‘Really? Yeah, sure. Of course. Obviously I wanna do that, yeah. Definitely.’”

“Wow. Talk about a romance for the ages. Yeesh.” Peter mumbled while Kurt nodded politely. Scott huffed in frustration and shook his head.  

Scott and Kurt continued to get ready for a few moments while Peter continued to stand around in a damp towel, now snacking on some Raisinets he had obtained from God-knows-where.

When Kurt and Scott stood to throw their day clothes in their lockers and head to practice, Peter tipped the last of the Raisinets into his mouth and gave Kurt a hearty, too-firm slap on the back. “I’ll catch up to you guys in a minute. Congrats on becoming a man.”

Kurt laughed a little and shook his head with a smile. “Thank you Peter, but I was a man before- just a man no one would want to sleep with.”

Behind him, Scott scoffed. “I don’t know how you can seriously keep thinking that after the amount of effort you put in to _avoiding_  the advances of a person _you yourself_  describe as ‘the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen.’”

Kurt turned, mouth open and hand raised, to respond to Scott, but was quickly interrupted by Peter. “Fact. Plus, like, I’m sure that’s not an isolated incident. If I coulda been a fly on the wall of your whole life, I’m sure I’d just see missed opportunity after missed opportunity.” Peter nonchalantly tossed his towel to the floor and his empty Raisinets box into a nearby garbage can. Scott quickly turned his head with a disgusted noise, but Kurt was unperturbed. “Like, for example- that cute brunette chick who works at _The Pretzel Shoppe_  in the mall who always talks your ear off and gives you free cheese dip. Totally been trying to get in your pants for _months_. _”_   

Kurt sighed and crossed his arms. “Peter, Rebecca works at a pretzel kiosk, and as a German, I’m from _the land of pretzels_ , so of course we have things to talk about…” he explained in a somewhat patronizing tone.

“Yeah, I’m sure she’s just real passionate about her work.” Scott remarked sarcastically.

“Also, the cheese dip _is_  free.” Kurt insisted, after Scott’s sarcasm flew right over his head.

“No it’s not!” Peter shouted. “It’s sixty cents! It’s sixty cents if she doesn’t wanna fuck you!”

“Are you sure?” Kurt pressed skeptically. “Have you tried being nicer? Smiling more?”

Peter placed his hands on his hips indignantly, but couldn’t come up with a response. Scott laughed. “Now, as much as I actually agree with Peter here, it’s completely feasible that he’s been paying some kinda ‘asshole tax’…”

“It’s not about the cheese dip!” Peter stated, finally having gotten his words together. “It’s like- if you thought you were gonna get through life without a bunch of women and probably some men tryna climb all over you, then you’re fucking delusional.” he ranted, gesturing towards Kurt. “Like- do you know how _the entire senior girls’ volleyball team_  describes you? You’re ‘the one with the hot accent.’ Just so you know.”

Kurt smirked bashfully. “They should take a class trip to Bavaria, where everyone sounds like this.”

Peter ignored him entirely and continued. “It’s like- your whole _look_  is like ‘tall, dark, and mysterious,’ but you’re somehow as emotionally available as a Golden Retriever.”

“I’m not mysterious.” Kurt pointed out quietly.

“Your eyes are huge and, like, _sparkly_. Your hair is always shiny.” Peter listed things off, glancing upwards and counting off on his fingers. In the background, Scott crossed his arms with a slight scowl. “You’re _bendy as fuck_ , which I’m sure _turns some cranks_ , let me tell you…” Kurt had taken to looking at the floor. “Oh! And your smile really lights up the room.”

“Hey! How come you’re telling him all that, but a few weeks ago you told me I was like a baked potato?” Scott interjected, sounding more insulted than he liked.

Peter stared Scott down, radiating annoyance. “Because you’re a potato, Summers.”

Kurt quickly held his hands up to halt the now-inevitable argument. “Nobody is a potato. Can we please go to practice now?”

Scott and Peter emitted a series of begrudging, affirmative mumbles. Scott and Kurt starting moving towards the door, with Peter suddenly appearing in full uniform directly in front of them as soon as they opened it.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, sorry this chapter took so long. This may become a regular "thing" as the amount of free time I have to work on this has decreased and become unpredictable as of late.  
> This chapter's title is a (paraphrased) line from Leonard Cohen's 1984 song "Hallelujah" The whole verse is "Your faith was strong but you needed proof. You saw her bathing on the roof. Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya. She tied you to a kitchen chair. She broke your throne, and she cut your hair. And from your lips she drew the hallelujah" So yeah the song's pretty erotic, with religious overtones. Like, so much so that I thought it was kinda a cliche to use it for a chapter with adult content, but I just loved it so much i used it anyways.  
> Keeping with the theme of erotic content with religious overtones, "The Song of Songs" is part of the Old Testament. Parts of it really are lovely to read. I put a decent amount (read: a stupid amount) of effort into making sure the parts I used for this story would be consistent with available English-language Catholic Bibles from that time.  
> Next chapter may also have sexual content. Haven't decided yet. Leaning towards "Yes."


	34. I'm Out Of My Mind With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven explains their upcoming mission to the X-Men, and then meets with Hank. Peter and Jubilee also have a meeting, of sorts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some sexual content and a lot of people interrupting each other. Which is rude. And swearing. Which is also rude.  
> It takes place about a week-and-a-half after the previous chapter.

The X-Men sat in their classroom, seated close together, idly chatting, and killing time. They were about a week-and-a-half into Hank’s most recent lecture series, ‘Functionality and Application of Electromagnetics in Genetic Mutation and Theoretical Weaponry,” and _it showed_. As it stood, Hank appeared to be running late for once in his life, and the situation was rapidly deteriorating. Ororo, Scott, and Kurt were experimenting with paper airplane designs, while Peter worked on a spitball-missile defense system. Jean sat on top of the desk behind Jubilee, braiding one of her long pigtails and reading Jubilee’s fashion magazine over her shoulder, while Jubilee debated the pros and cons of getting her nose pierced.

“-and then I could get one of those cool chains that connects your nose ring to your earring…” Jubilee said, gesturing over the glossy images of her magazine.

“That’d be perfect. That way I could give it a yank if you weren’t paying attention.” Jean replied snarkily. Even sitting behind her, she was able to tell that Jubilee had rolled her eyes. “Plus, Peter could use it as handle or something, I dunno…”

“What do you think the pigtails are for?” Jubilee quipped, and then immediately burst into giggles when Jean dropped the pigtail she’d been braiding with a shrill “EW!”

Behind them, Kurt was insisting that the airplane would fly better if it had a pilot, hastily doodling a stick figure person near the ‘cockpit.’ Beside him, Scott was fussing over the integrity of the paper creases, while Ororo was arguing in favor of adding an additional bend to each wing for stability. In the back corner, Peter chewed on a piece of paper and fiddled with a plastic straw, goading them to hurry up with their modifications.  

All eyes shot forward when the classroom door was loudly kicked open. There was a sudden, frantic burst of activity as everyone struggled to return to their own desks and at least appear professional when Raven, rather than Hank, walked through the door.

“Morning.” Raven stated without looking up as she threw a few folders down on the desk.

“You’re not Hank!” Jubilee exclaimed.

Raven glanced up humorlessly. “Shit. You’re right.” she stated, looking down at her typical ‘white pants and tank top’ ensemble. “I mean, I _could_  be Hank. You guys prefer ‘blue’ Hank or ‘Radio Shack’ Hank?”   

“Blue Hank!” Peter yelled from the back of the classroom.

“We’re just surprised because he told us we had a lecture on Electromagnetics this morning.” Scott explained, raising his hand slightly.

“Right. Well, that’s been postponed, because we actually have a mission to talk about. Like, a real mission that’ll actually require you guys to leave the house.”

Raven waited impatiently as the classroom erupted into cheers. Once it had died down, she moved to the chalkboard and started drawing a rough blueprint of a building on the board.

“So, this is actually a really simple one-” she started as she continued her drawing. “No lasers. No other mutants. No explosions. Maybe some civilian-typical firearms. Just your basic ‘get in-get out’ fetch mission where we need to download some data off some computers, snatch some files, and then ensure that those hard drives and databases are erased or destroyed before we leave. It literally could not be easier.”   

“So there is no security at all?” Kurt asked with his hand raised.

“Eh. Maybe like a mall-cop-level security guard or two. The people who run this place are pretty confident in having disguised their operation as a soda bottling company, and an increased security presence would only compromise that image. There may be a few scientists or data-analysts around, but we’ll be going in late at night, so they may not even have that.” Raven explained casually as she continued to draw. Kurt nodded and made notes.  

“So this operation is based just outside Baltimore. We’ll be taking the Blackbird within two miles of it, and then covering the remaining distance on our own. Figure out among yourselves how best to get there…”

“Psst! Summers!” Peter whispered towards Scott. “So, are you gonna get Jean to carry you, like, fireman-style, or bridal-style?”

“Fuck you!” Scott whispered back. Jean shook her head with a sigh.

“I can take him if you’d like, Jean.” Kurt offered politely. “He’s heavy.”

Ororo covered her mouth to suppress her laughter as Scott spun towards Kurt, no doubt with something to say. Jean quickly silenced him with a hand on his arm. “Uh, thanks Kurt, but I think we can just work out the details later.”

“So anyway-” Raven stated pointedly, just to regain her student’s attention. “When we first got the run-down of this mission, it looked like it was going to require two or three of you. The plan we have now should actually require all of you, but I think it’s a safer and more efficient plan. It goes like this-”

The X-men instantly straightened up in their desks, pens in-hand, awaiting their instructions. Raven stood at the side of her chalkboard blueprint, and started writings lists and lines.

“So, first of all, Kurt, I’m going to need you getting people in and out of the facility. This is mostly going to be your teammates, but it may include any lingering personnel we encounter.”

“ _Jawohl_.”

“Jean and Jubilee. You both have the most computer know-how, so you’ll be accompanying Kurt into the facility and collecting the data. You are both fully capable of destroying a hard drive, so I’ll leave that with you two as well.”

Jean gave a firm nod, while Jubilee jotted the words ‘wreck shit’ down and underlined them several times, muttering “Bitchin’.” to herself.

“Ororo, I need you in the air keeping an eye on the perimeter. Anyone tries to make a getaway, or any additional personnel try to approach, we need to know about it, and you need to deal with it. Got it?”

“Got it!”

“Peter, you’re going to be a kind of go-between. You’ll be helping Ororo maintain the perimeter, but also helping Kurt, Jean, and Jubilee with any problems arising within the facility. We may also need you to run between the location of the Blackbird and the facility. Clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Finally, Scott, you’re going to be on the ground, coordinating things as they happen. You’ll be the one assigning tasks, keeping everyone updated, making sure everything is progressing and everyone is where they need to be. Hank’s developed a new communication device that should make this easier. Sound good?”

“Sounds good.”

“Perfect. Now, while this is all going on, Hank and I will be on the Blackbird. If a situation should arise where it appears that our skills, in particular Hank’s medical training or my infiltration capabilities, are required, I expect Scott to let us know and Peter to come get us. I don’t anticipate we’ll be needed, but we’ll be ready.”    

The team gave a series of affirmative murmurs and jotted down notes. Raven paused, chalk in-hand, and looked over this odd collection of mutants she had been attempting to train for nearly two years. She turned back to the chalkboard and smiled, unbeknownst to any of them, before drawing lines over her blueprint.

“Okay, so- the entrance we will be using to enter the facility is a locked maintenance door located here-”   

******

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. How’d it go?”

Raven threw her folders down on one of the workbenches in Hank’s workshop, where he hunched over a mounted magnifying glass, meticulously assembling a small electronic device. He did not look up from his task.

“Oh, it was pandemonium.” Raven replied, flopping down on a ratty old couch that had been shoved against a back wall and half-covered in files and journals. “They nearly rioted when I told them you weren’t gonna be down for their, y’know… _microwave_  lecture?”  

“Electomagnetics. And I’m sure they did.” He gives the smallest glance in her direction, with an almost undetectable smile. “But really, though?”

Raven sank further into the couch, sprawling her arms across the back. “It was actually great. There shouldn't be any trouble being ready for Wednesday night.” she gestured at the object he was assembling. “Think you’ll be ready by then?”

“Definitely.” he stated confidently, sitting up from the bench and turning to her. “I’ll be done assembling the last of these by today, and we can run them all through a quality assurance test tomorrow.” He gestured briefly towards a nearby workbench, where several of his experimental communication devices were already assembled and ready for use.   

“Great. So we’re doing this.” Raven said with a definitive nod.

“You think they’re ready?”

“Pfft. Oh, yeah.” She scoffed and waved him off. “I think the only reason we’ve waited this long to have a major field assignment is because there just…wasn’t anything to do? It’s been _ages_  since we had something that actually required a team effort.”

Hank sat up from his workspace and carefully packed his very small tools into their case. He stood up and Raven watched with interest, scratching behind her ear, as his body changed from that of a slim, ordinary man to a hulking blue-furred mutant in seconds. Years of experience now allowed for this to be a relativity smooth transition. He effortlessly picked up the massive pile of papers and journals off the other half of the couch and set it aside, taking a seat next to her. The sudden addition of his weight onto the rickety old couch caused her to bounce, and she laughed involuntarily.

She turned to him, fingers still idly in her hair. “I’m actually looking forward to it. Could be just like old times.”

He scoffed, slapping both hands down on his khaki-clad knees. “Really, Raven? I feel like we’re a couple of soccer moms waiting in the minivan for the kids to be done of practice.”

“Well, you never know! They might need us.” she insisted with a barely-restrained smile. “Or! If it makes you feel better, we could switch it up so that Kurt waits in the plane and you _punch down_  doors instead of teleporting around them. Would that make you feel better?”

He scowled at her, but there’s humor behind it. “It’s fine. I’ll get over it.”

She smiles and looks away, still fiddling with her hair. He looks towards her, eyes downcast, thinking hard and weighing his options. Finally, he takes a quiet breath. “Raven, what happened to us?”

Her head snapped towards him, yellow eyes wide and her breath caught in her throat. “You’re seriously asking me that _now_?”  

He leaned forward, elbow on his knees, to elaborate. “It’s just something I think about a lot. I keep running things through my head, wondering how it could have been different, wondering what I could have done to-”

“You got too fucking clingy, is what happened.” Raven interrupted.

“How? How was I too ‘clingy’?”

“Oh my God…” Raven rolled her eyes and leaned back harder into the couch. “You were suffocating me! We’d be in the goddamned grocery store and you’d randomly be like ‘Arthur’s a nice name for a boy!’ Like, what the fuck was I supposed to do?”

“So then you just go to Europe with Erik and-”

“Yes I am very aware of the _fucking irony_.”

“I’m just saying if we had talked things over-”

“I was into some _heavy shit_. I couldn’t just leave.”

“Yes, I know. But I’m sure it wasn’t anything we couldn’t have worked around. You could have used my help.”

“Jesus Christ, Hank. I had another man’s fucking baby.” She stared him down, arms across the back of the couch, daring him to yell or swear or leave.

Hank stared silently at his hands laced together on his knees, rubbing his thumbs together. “That wouldn’t have bothered me.” he finally replied quietly.

“Well, it bothered me.” she shot back immediately.

“It doesn’t bother me now.” he added, still not looking up.

Raven tipped her head back and sighed heavily, holding her face in her hands for several seconds. “Look, it’s just- being with you was like driving on a narrow one-way road that had only one destination. You might not like to admit it, but in your head everything was always headed towards marriage and kids and picket fences. The more things went on, the more I knew I couldn’t be part of that whole ‘nuclear family’ deal. The pieces just don’t fall into place for me. It was just never going to happen.”

Hank took a deep breath and straightened up somewhat, now rubbing his palms together slowly. “If it makes any difference- it probably doesn’t, but just so you know…” He turned to face her, his hands stilling in his lap. “I don’t think I really wanted that as much as I thought I did. Over the years, the one thing I’ve always felt was lacking-” He stopped himself and hesitated, looking down for a second. “I just- I always missed you. I never stopped missing you. I miss you _now_ , and you’re sitting right there. Everything else is just details.”

Raven stammered, taken off guard. “I don’t know how you can miss someone who yells at you as much as I do.”

“I’ve always liked that you never hesitated to speak your mind. It shows you actually care. Even at an… increased volume.”

Raven laughed and looked away, rubbing her chin. Hank shrugged. “Plus, if these last few years have taught me anything, it’s that it’s probably just as well I never had children. Kids are a lot of work.” he added, nodding seriously.

Raven laughed again, sharper this time. “Kids? You mean those guys?” she asked incredulously, gesturing towards a window overlooking the Danger Room, where the X-Men were currently working through a scenario.  

“Well, yes! I’ve been very involved with them.” he argued.

“You’re a doctor and a teacher. Not their father.” Raven explained.

“True, but I have been known to distribute, um…fatherly advice…”

“God, I hope you’re not referring to that Sex Ed class we were both _forced_  to teach, that you _hated_.”

“Oh, no! There have been lots of times they’ve come to me for guidance. Such as…” he trailed off, scratching the fur on the side of his face. “Oh! I taught Kurt what an armadillo was.”

Raven gave him a pointed look. “He knew what it was. He just called it a _Gürteltier.”_

 _“_ Yeah, well- I told him not to pick one up, because of the risk of it transmitting leprosy.”

“Cuz of the leprosy. Right.” Raven echoed sarcastically.

“I told Scott he could look at the sun for a brief period.” Hank added proudly.

“Oh, good. I’m sure his _actual_ parents would be thrilled with that, after spending his childhood telling him _not_  to look at the sun.”  

Hank leaned back into the couch, gesturing to Raven with both hands. “See! This is what I mean. I need you to tell me these things.”

Raven threw her head back and laughed, before standing up and walking towards the window overlooking the Danger Room. Hank quickly followed, watching over her shoulder. They observed their students easily working through a terrorist-attack scenario, which was now functioning optimally and did not include any robots.

“Look, I- Just think about it. Take your time.” Hank finally said after a minute or so. “It doesn’t have to be anything big or official or serious, not right away. We could be discrete, if you were worried about the kids finding out…”

She scoffed, looked up at him smiling, and then looked away again. “I’m assuming that by ‘kids,’ you still mean this group of adults we’ve been supervising-” she waved her hand over the expanse of the Danger Room below. “who have all been fucking each other.” She shook her head and crossed her arms. “I’m pretty sure I don’t give a fuck what they think.”

“They’re not- Well, perhaps…” Hank stammered, squinting in thought. “At the very least, I don’t think there’s much partner-swapping going on…”

She tried to suppress her laughter, but ended up snorting instead, which just lead to him laughing too. “Oh, God. What have we gotten ourselves into?” she finally said with a sigh, wiping a laughter-induced tear off her face. She let her posture slump, leaned back against him just barely. “Maybe it’s, like, _a sign_  that we’re the only ones around here not getting laid.”

Behind her, he smiled triumphantly, until his ever-driving need for factual accuracy forced him to speak up. “Well, really, we aren’t the _only_  ones…”

She quickly crossed her arms and turned to him, eyebrow raised. “ _Seriously_? How can you be both that smart _and_  that naive?”

“What?”

“What? You think Erik comes here to _play Chess_?”

“Yes? He and Charles have always played Chess.”

“Okay, so, first of all-” she started, turning around to face him with a finger raised. “no one actually _plays_  Chess. Nobody _likes_  Chess. Chess is just foreplay for people who’s _entire personality_  is hinges on them beingsmart.” She paused briefly when he started shaking his head skeptically. “That’s why all the pieces look like little dicks.”

Hank reeled back, scoffing indignantly, with his mouth hanging open. Before he could string words together, he was preempted by Raven. “And before you ask anything else, just keep in mind that telepaths don’t actually have to touch people in order to fuck them.”

Hank frowned involuntarily and stammered some more. “Okay, well- I don’t purport to understand _all that_ , but I can tell you that I taught Scott Summers Sex Ed, and I can say for a _fact_ -” He gestured towards to area of the Danger Room where Scott and Jean were using their powers to break through a concrete-and-razorwire barrier. “there is definitely, uh, physical contact happening there.”

Raven laughed and gave him a pointed, patronizing look. “Well, _of course_  there is. That’s because they’re young and hot and horny and inexperienced.” She flitted her hands in Jean’s direction. “Give them a few years to figure it out, God.”

Hank let his arms drop to his sides, now staring at his students working through their scenario, thinking thoughts he’d rather not think. Raven spared a sideways glance and smiled at his discomfort. “Hell,” she added. “with her being both telekinetic _and_  telepathic- ****Damn****. His poor dick won’t know what hit it.”

Hank frowned, slowly shaking his head. “Hmm. Yep, poor him.”

Raven smiled devilishly, and continued watching the events of the Danger Room unfold. She rocked back on her heels with an interested “Huh.” as she watched Kurt quickly teleport Ororo out of the path of an ice tornado she herself had created in order to disassemble a terrorist communication hub. Both were smiling and it didn’t seem like he was going to let go of her anytime soon. Raven glanced briefly towards Hank, and then back to the Danger Room. “So, um…how was it that you were able to figure out that Kurt and Ororo were a couple?”

Hank stood straighter and gave a small shrug, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Well, it wasn’t really a matter of ‘figuring it out,’” Hank replied. “I was walking up the hall and noticed them ahead of me, walking side-by-side, and she was holding onto his tail. I mean, I don’t really understand the intricacies of _tail etiquette_ , but it looked somewhat intimate to me.”   

Raven nodded slowly, looking slightly forlorn. “Yeah. Yeah it would be.” She turned to Hank, arms crossed and brow furrowed. “D’ya think he was, like, _purposefully hiding_  that from me? Like, he thought I would get mad at him or something?”

Hank gave a long sigh. “I wouldn’t overthink it, Raven. Some people are just a little reserved about that sort of thing.”

She pursed her lips in consideration. “Hmm. Maybe.” She leaned back slightly and crossed her arms again. “Good for them, I guess.”

Hank nodded approvingly.

Raven’s expression shifted into a half-smile. “As long as he doesn’t do the Catholic thing and make, like, ten babies.”

Hank quickly crossed his arms and shook his head, eyebrow raised. “Don’t you think that’s a little prejudiced, Raven?”

She smirked at his seriousness. “What? We are _at capacity_  for blue people.”

He gasped indignantly. “We are _not_!”

“Of course we are. Three is enough.”

“Never. We will always have room for more blue people.”

“Pfft.”

“We will _make room_  for more blue people. I’ll have Charles add a _whole wing_  onto the institute, if that’s what it takes to fit all the blue people.”

“I’m sure.”

“He’d do it, too.”

She looked up at him, and they were both smiling and laughing now. She leaned back against him again with a contented sigh, her head resting on his shoulder. “Oh, God…” she huffed, shaking her head as the laughter died off. “What have we gotten ourselves into?”

******

“Omigawd, who picked that fucking movie?”

“Summers did. He always goes with the dumb action shit. I wanted ‘ _This Is Spinal Tap_.’”

“Pfft. For the hundredth time.”

Peter had unlocked and flung open the door to his room in a flurry of various metallic clanking sounds, and was instantly standing next to his bed, t-shirt now off and clutched in his fist. Jubilee rolled her eyes as she stepped over the threshold to his room and kicked the door shut behind her. She strode over to him at her own pace, because fuck him if he thought he was going to make her rush. She came to a halt just out of his personal space, reaching out with one hand to grab the waistband of his worn-out gray jeans, pulling him towards her. They instantly glom onto each other, his hands moving frantically up her shirt and over her ass, hers twisting in his hair and raking over his bare chest, tongues in each other’s mouths without prelude or romantic gesture.   

The loose bright pink crop-top found it’s way across the room in seconds, but the snug yellow spandex tank-top underneath it stays put for now. She moves backwards away from him, flashing an impish smile, just so that she can dramatically hop onto his unmade bed. She propped herself up on both elbows, one knee bent with her heel on the edge of the mattress, other leg dangling. The bed hadn’t even stopped creaking when he flung himself on it, leaning over her with one knee between hers.

He leaned down to kiss her again when she twisted her head away, exclaiming “Fucking EW!” and looking around herself suspiciously. He sat up and watched in complete confusion as she hastily brushed off her arms the bare back of her legs, followed by the surrounding bedspread. “Fucking crumbs goddamn EVERYWHERE!” she cried shrilly.

“Oh, come on. It’s not that bad.” he replied flatly as she stood up and continued to brush herself off.

“Yes it is! They’re, like, sticking to my skin! Ugh! Grody…” she continued to complain.   

He tugged at his bedspread, shaking it uselessly. “It’s no biggie, we’ll just give it a shake and-”

“Blech! No! It’s, like, all over the sheet, too!” She ran her hand experimentally over the various layers of his bed. “Do you, like, even fucking _eat_  food, or do you just crumple up whole sleeves of saltine crackers and throw it on your bed?”   

He gave a bewildered shrug and tossed his hair. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Ugh!” she groaned once more, as she finished readjusting her denim miniskirt and picking the last stray crumbs off her neon green legwarmers. She waved her hand in the direction of his bed. “So this isn’t happening.”

“Uh, yeah. Figured.” He stood expectantly, arms crossed over his naked chest.

She set her hands on her hips, tapping her foot and biting her lip as she glanced around the room. “So, uh- think you could clear that desk off?”

“Abso- _fucking_ -lutely.”

Faster than the eye could see, the cluttered collection of papers, soda cans, clean _and_  dirty laundry, video game cartridges, and other miscellaneous junk were removed from the surface of the desk. Peter now stood, dusting off his hands, his back to the desk, hoping Jubilee wouldn’t notice that he had just crammed everything under his bed.

“Hey, Jubes- you listen to that tape I gave you yet?” he asked, now distracted by his rumpled bedding.

“Yeah, some of it. It’s kinda a weird mix. I mean, ‘ _Closer to the Heart_ ’s a jam, but ‘ _Sunshine of Your Love_ ’ is some serious dad-rock.”

 _“_ It is not! _”_ Peter insisted, as he found himself stripping the linens off his bed, back still to the desk. “Plus, like- you might like it better if you listen to it in the order I put it in.”

“Playing a song before or after ‘ _Mr. Blue Sky_ ’ doesn’t make it any less dad-rock.” she argued, and he scoffed and shook his head as he pulled his pillows out of their cases.

He had almost entirely finished stripping the bed when heard an amused “What the fuck are you doing?”

He spun around and his mouth dropped open when he saw that, contrary to his assumption, Jubilee had decided to bend over the desk rather than hop on top of it. Not only that, but she currently had her thumbs hooked in the waistband of her satiny red underwear, watching him expectantly with a sly smile as she inched them down her thighs.

“Soo…you just gonna stand there, or-” she started, giving her hair a slight toss, and he was immediately on his knees at her feet. He wrapped his fingers around the elastic of her underwear, taking it from her hands and sliding it down the rest of the way, taking care to tug it over her leg warmers and the short-heeled white pumps she still wore. For reasons he couldn’t entirely explain, it was important that those stayed on.

Once her underwear had joined her crop top on the other side of the room, he turned back to her, running his hands greedily up and down the soft, sensitive flesh of her thighs, and up under the hem of her miniskirt. She hummed initially, but then yelped when he unexpectedly bit the back of her knee. He kept at it, working his way across her legs, sucking, nipping, kissing, all while kneading the curves of her ass with both hands. She laughed sharply and feigned kicking at him after he likely caused a hickey on the inside of her thigh that she might have trouble explaining to the other girls in the locker room- actually, scratch that. They’ll all know exactly what it is and exactly how she got it.

“Stop it! Stop _teasing_  me! Enough fucking around!” she demanded, with a needy twinge in her voice. She reached behind her to swat at his head ineffectually.

“Fine by me.”

He grasped her leg and pulled it up and away from the other one, propping it up on the desk. She flashed him a giddy smile, she knew what he was thinking. She arched her back and rested her head on her forearms, widening her stance. Still kneeling on the floor behind her, he took a fraction of a second to commit the sight before him to memory. One of the things his powers allowed him to do that most people didn’t think of was just look at things, frozen in still life. To take, from his perspective, all the time in the world to just stare. What he saw right now he wanted branded on the back of his eyelids. He wanted it tattooed on his fucking body. He was sure that sights like this were the reason Neanderthals first started drawing on the walls of caves. Impatient eyes, inviting smile, brightly colored clothing in a perfect disarray. The smooth, yielding curve of legs spread wide, the swollen pink, glistening wet lips between them. Finally satisfied, he dipped his head between her legs without warning, splitting her folds with his tongue before sucking her clit and pushing two fingers into her.

“Ah! ****Fuck****!” she cried shrilly into the wooden surface. He kept at it, moving his fingers faster, and she moaned loudly and pounded her fist on the desk. “Fuck _yessss_ ”

Her legs shook and she pushed back against him, louder and less comprehensible by the second. She reached back and twisted her fingers in his hair, pulling hard to haul him to his feet. No sooner had she let go of him when his pants joined her clothes on the opposite side of the room. She looked back over her shoulder to find him instantaneously fully nude, face flushed, hair a disaster, looking downwards in concentration as he held his cock in one hand and gripped her hip with the other. She eagerly braced herself, gripping the side of the desk. She groaned, biting her lip, when he finally slid into her, and she watched him actually hesitate with his mouth hung open and his eyes shut. Once he started moving, it was at an intense, unrelenting pace, just like how she liked- or rather, specifically demanded. The only thing louder than the sound of the desk thumping against the wall was their combined moaning and the occasional swear word. Either they were going to owe Peter’s next-door neighbor an apology, or that guy was going to owe them a high-five.

One of the things that Peter had learned about being with Jubes is that whenever he was doing things _right_ , she sounded like a fucking porn star. But- whenever he started doing things really, _really_ right- she actually made almost no sound at all. Currently, the only thing he could hear from her was ragged breathing forced through now-gritted teeth, her voice having gotten stuck in her throat. He watched her eyes close immediately after having rolled back in her head, and he pitched forward to brace his hand over the one she held the side of the desk with, lacing his fingers over top of her white-knuckled grip. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes clenched shut, and the sensation of her body spasming around him ended only when she finally gasped a large, desperate breath. Immediately, he reached out to twist the sleek, inky strands of one pigtail around his fist to turn her head towards him, crashing her mouth into his in a messy, needy kiss, teeth clicking together, fractions of a second before he came, too, with a decidedly unromantic shout.

“Ah! God! ** **Fuck****.”

Both were still panting as he rapidly retrieved their discarded clothing into a small pile next to the desk and she tugged the things she was still wearing back into place. They both ignored the pile of clothes as she moved to sit on the edge of the desk, legs dangling, and he leaned back against it, hands gripping the edge on either side of him. She scooted a bit closer to him, wrapping both arms loosely around him, leaning against his back and resting her head on his shoulder. He tilted his head until it bumped into hers and re-positioned his nearest hand to her knee.

She ran her fingertips affectionately over his bare chest. “It’s so cute that you have these, like, almost-invisible silver chest hairs. I can only see them if I’m staring or if you’re blushing.”

He huffed a quiet laugh and gave her knee a shake. “Ya think?” He could feel her shrug in response. A few seconds of peaceful silence ticked by until Peter furrowed his brow and took a deep breath. “D’ya wanna, like, catch a movie or something?”

Jubilee spared a glance to her watch. “Little late, don’t you think?” She leaned harder into his shoulder, mumbling “Plus we already watched one tonight, and it was _dumb_.”

“Oh, not right now. I was thinking like, later in the week. Or next week.”

She shrugged again, still tracing her fingertips over his chest. “Sure, maybe. If there’s something good in. _Teen Wolf_  might still be playing.”  

Peter nodded along. “We could grab something to eat, too.”

Jubilee sat up straighter, snapping her fingers and grinning. Peter spun around to face her. “I got it! We gotta go on a Tuesday! That fast-food joint next to the theater has half-priced chicken nuggets on Tuesdays! They look kinda greasy but Jean swears by them. You think we can rope her and Kurt into a nugget-eating contest? He’ll wanna see _Teen Wolf_  too, I’m sure, but I’m not sure if eating contests are his _thing_ …”

Peter crossed his arms. “I was thinking maybe more like a place that doesn’t have the menu written up on the wall behind the cash register.” Jubilee shrugged again, and tossed her pigtail behind her shoulder. “I was also thinking maybe just the two of us…” 

Jubilee scoffed and smirked. “Sounds kinda like a date!”

“Yeah, that’s the point?”

Jubilee’s smile fell, and she whispered suspiciously “Why are asking me on a date?”

What had been light nervousness shifted into a growing panic, and Peter’s face blushed intensely. His mind raced frantically and he started to sweat, drumming his fingers on his elbows compulsively. This was not going as well as it had in his head. On top of everything else, he was still completely naked.

He glanced around the room, avoiding her gaze, as he struggled to explain his motivations. “Well, it’s like, I think I’m probably in love with you, because if there was ever _a giraffe_ , you’d be the first to know-” he rambled rapidly before being interrupted.

“ _A giraffe_?”

“Yeah, like out there or in town-” He flung his arm in the direction of his window.

“Peter, you’re really sweaty.”

“Oh. Fuck. Shit. I guess I am.” He ran his hands over his chest and arms and rubbed his fingers together.

“Are you okay?” Jubilee asked seriously, narrowing her eyes and staring at Peter’s face analytically. Peter nodded rapidly, wide-eyed and hyperventilating. Jubilee’s expression became dire, and she gasped. “Is this what Hank was talking about? Do you need to go to the hospital?”

“Pfft! No!” Peter tried and failed to sound casual.

“Then why are you going on about giraffes?”

“I just figure you’d like to see one-” he argued, now becoming defensive.

“Okay. Okay. Here’s what we’re gonna do.” She hopped off the desk and stood in front of him, placing a hand on each shoulder. “Sit down. Sit on the floor right now.” He stared skeptically at her as he did as instructed. When they were both seated, she leaned into his personal space, still examining his face, and grasped both his wrists firmly. “Peter-” she stated, slower and louder than normal as she stared into his eyes. “Do you think…that we’re at the zoo right now?”

He pulled back, head tilted and face twisted in confusion. “No! We’re in my room!”

“Oh, thank fuck!” she quickly muttered under her breath, leaning away and running both hands back through her hair as she breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “I thought you were having a fucking stroke!”

“I’m not having a stroke!” Peter echoed loudly, crossing his arms over his knees.

“Wait- You also said you were in love with me.”

“Okay, I realize now that I should have focused on that more than the giraffe thing. Might have saved some confusion…”

“No shit. Then why’d you say it?”

“Because it’s true?”

“No, it isn’t.”

“Oh, okay. Glad we got that settled.” he replied sarcastically. She stared back in silence. He took a deep breath and glanced away, rubbing his chin before looking back to her. “Look, I know this isn’t what we agreed on, but I was having a talk with my dad-”

“Who’s _old_  and _European_.” she interjected.  

“Anyway.” Peter continued, “He was just saying about how life’s too short, when there’s something important… Like, I’m not getting any younger-”

“So because you’ve decided to act out your _midlife crisis_ -”

“Whoa, okay.”

“You want us to change what has been a perfectly agreeable friends-with-benefits situation into a scenario where every time I wanna watch a movie, I have to tell you I’m going to watch the movie, in case you also wanna watch the movie, so we can watch the movie as a couple? Did I get that right?” She crossed her arms stiffly, awaiting his response.

“Oh, come on! You’re exaggerating. It wouldn’t be like that!” Peter replied indignantly.

“Ha, ya think?” She crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow. “Like, do you think Scott does _literally anything_  without letting Jean know?”

“Well….”

“And what about Kurt and ‘Ro? They just hole up in her room and read poetry together and shit.”

“Yeah, but they’re kinda a special case, though.” Peter argued.

“No they’re not!” Jubilee shot back. “They’re all just lame couples doing dumb… _couple shit_. It sucks!”

She stood abruptly and, to his disappointment, pulled her own shirt over her head instead of his. He stood, too, and was instantly back in his pants. She crossed her arms and looked around the room in agitation, and he held both hands out to try and calm her. “Look, nothing has to change. We wouldn’t have to be like all the couples we know, because _we’re_  not like all the people we know.”

She turned back to him when he gently touched her shoulder. “If nothing has to change, then why even change it?” she asked, quieter than before.

Peter’s arms flopped to his sides, and he tipped his head back as he gathered his thoughts. “It’s just- you drive me out of my mind. The time we’re together is the highlight of my day, every day. And when we’re not together, I’m, like, counting the seconds until we are.”

She nodded slowly as she processed what he was trying to say. “But, like- What about _this_ -” she gestured towards him and around the room. “isn’t enough for you?” The anger had gone out of her voiced, and seemed to have been replaced with faint hurt. 

“It’s enough, but I still need more.” he blurted. It had made more sense in his head. This had all made more sense in his head.

She pursed her lips and nodded, looking at the floor. “I think I’m just gonna give you some time to sort your own shit out.” she stated plainly, and started walking towards the door.

“Shit. Wait!” He appeared instantly next to the door frame as she turned the knob and pulled the door open. “You know what? Fuck it. Just forget it. Just forget I said anything.” he said, in a slightly pleading tone, as she stepped out into the hall.

She turned to him, arms wrapped around her midsection. “I, uh…I don’t think that I can.”

“Try?” He leaned against the door frame, trying to meet her eyes.

She looked down and away, nodding slowly, before she turned on her heel and made her way up the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is from the song 'Night Shift' (1981) by Siouxsie And The Banshees. Most of the rest of the lyric is "I'll put it out of my mind because I'm out of my mind with you. In heaven and hell with you..." It's an excellent, creepy, obsessive song. Love it. 
> 
> The songs on the mixtape that Peter made for Jubes are (among others, presumably) 'Sunshine of Your Love' (1967) by Cream, 'Closer to the Heart' (1977) by Rush, and 'Mr. Blue Sky' (1977) by Electric Light Orchestra. All three are absolute jams. However, all three are also total dad-rock.


	35. This Ain't No Party, This Ain't No Disco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men do an actual mission! Like, outside the house!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! It's that mission that everyone's been talking about for, like, 13 chapters. Also, in this chapter I land a joke I set up literally 22 chapters ago. Worth it? Probably not, to be honest.

“Jean, _what_ has been going on with Peter and Jubilee?”

“So, you remember when you and Kurt weren’t talking?”

“...Yes?”

“Well, this is like that, except that they’re not _fucking_.”

Ororo gave a soft gasp. “That’s _worse_!”

Jean and Ororo were huddled close together, waiting for the preparations for their mission to be completed. It was Wednesday night, and everyone was dressed in their uniforms, doing last-minute equipment and supply checks. No sooner had the words left Ororo’s mouth did Jean motion for her to be quiet, as Jubilee approached them.

“You guys talking about me?” Jubilee immediately said suspiciously.

Jean vigorously shook her head as Ororo pressed her hand to her chest and breathed a concerned “Yes!” Jean glared at her with a scowl. “How are you holding up?” Ororo added, ignoring Jean.

“I’m fine.” Jubilee stated plainly, before looking around them and taking a deep breath. “I just can’t _believe_ the _fucking_ nerve of him! Everything was fucking _perfect_ and he had to go fucking _ruin_ it! ARG!” she ranted, in an intense yet hushed tone, as soon as she saw that none of the guys were close by. She then gestured toward the other two girls with one finger raised. “Everyone always says that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but there is an _emergency detour_  through the cock that no one told me about, and now I’m freaking _the fuck_  out!”    

Ororo and Jean eyed each other warily. “Well, you did cook him a pizza once.” Jean said hesitantly.

“Oh, shit!” Jubilee gasped. “This is all the pizza’s fault!”

“I mean, would it really be that big a deal?” Jean asked, tilting her head. “You already fuck constantly. You’re already together almost all day. Would dating really be that different?”

“Yes!” Jubilee insisted. “We’d have to talk about our futures, we’d have to imagine what our kids would look like, we’d have to get jealous of hot strangers flirting with us, we’d have to coordinate our weekend plans, I’d have to get mad at him for looking at titty magazines…” Jubilee counted things off on her fingers. “Oh! I’d have to meet his parents, and his mom scares the shit out of me.”

Ororo furrowed her brow and stared at Jubilee skeptically. “His father is Magneto, and you’re scared of his mother?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Ororo shrugged and flicked her fingers up the side of her Mohawk. “Well, that’s not a serious concern. I’m terrified of _both_ of Kurt’s mothers.”

“Plus-” Jean interjected. “Half-Asian babies are essentially the cutest-ever babies. Sorry if that’s racist.”

“Ugh, don’t even say that!” Jubilee exclaimed, giving Jean’s shoulder a small shove. “I mean, you’re completely right, but still. Babies, ugh…” She shook her head in disgust. “Plus, you probably only think that because white people’s babies look like fat, old bald men.”

Jean nodded seriously. “Half of me wants to be insulted, but the other half knows that if you think that, then it’s probably because you saw my baby pictures.”

Jubilee snickered. “But you’re so pretty!” Ororo pointed out.

“Ha. I had fat cheeks, no chin, and was almost completely bald until I was three-and-a-half.” Jean explained. Ororo frowned.

Jubilee tipped her head back and groaned, raking her fingers through her hair. “I, like, should have seen this coming from a mile away. I should have suspected it back when he kept trying to hold my hand while we were fucking.”

“Ugh!” Ororo put her hand to her chest and turned her head away in a display of mock-disgust. “Jubilee, _please_. I just ate.”

“Yeah, get out of here with that sick fetish shit. Hand-holding…” Jean played along, shaking her head. “They say it’s just a gateway to hugging.”

“Blech!” Ororo pretended to gag.

Jubilee crossed her arms and gave her friends a stern look. “I’m pretty sure this is a Girl-Code infraction, right here. You’re not being very supportive.”

Ororo gave a long sigh and put her arm around Jubilee’s shoulder, giving it a small shake. “We’re sorry. We’re just teasing. Of course we want what’s best for you and Peter.” Jubilee relaxed and let her arms drop. “In fact-” Ororo added cheerfully, “I might have an idea, if you’re open to advice.”

Jubilee did a nonchalant hair-toss. “Shoot.”

Ororo grinned, and held her hands out to Jubilee as she explained. “Now, you have to admit that you and Peter’s _arrangement_ has been very intense, physically, from it’s inception.”

“Well, duh. That was the point.”

“And I also know that you take pride in your sexual prowess- we all do.” Ororo continued, motioning to both of her friends. Jean nodded solemnly. “But it’s possible that, over time, this may have resulted in some confusion on Peter’s part. Men can sometimes have difficulty mentally separating their physical and emotional needs.”

“Guys only have enough blood to control one head at a time.” Jean simplified.

“So, what I’m suggesting is this: Wait about a week, so you can both get your bearings and calm down. Approach him and suggest that you pick up the relationship where it left off. But this time, keep things a little more restrained. Not by a lot- I’m thinking a twenty-to-thirty percent reduction in sexual activity should be sufficient.”

“Just don’t suck his heart out through his dick this time around.” Jean added academically.

“With any luck, this would keep you both happy and satisfied while reducing the risk of sudden, unprovoked declarations of love.” Ororo concluded, holding her head up high.

Jubilee’s face screwed up in consideration as she mulled over her options while staring at the floor. “Well, I guess it’s either that, or I have to go buy a better vibrator.”

Jean and Ororo glanced at each other before nodding.

“And that store smells weird and the guy who works there is creepy.”

“True.” Ororo echoed, while Jean nodded with a quiet, serious “Yep, ew.”

******

“Okay, we’re here. Does everyone have their communication devices synced up?”

“Yes.” came the droning reply from the entire group.

Hank sat back in the pilot’s seat with a huff as Raven stood up from the co-pilot’s seat and walked up the aisle between the two rows of seats. “Alright, guys. This is it. Code-names only from this point on.” She paused a second while everyone stood up out of their flight seats and checked their gear. “So. Storm and Quicksilver- you guys get out there and report back on the perimeter. Once we know the coast is clear, the rest of you head out.”

Peter and Ororo nodded in acknowledgement. Raven continued. “I expect everyone to keep Cyclops up on any and all progress and setbacks. He needs to know what’s going on with everyone, at all times. Once you’re all in position, Nightcrawler, you take Jubilee and…um. Um. Um…” Raven motioned towards Jean before blinking hard several times and staring at the floor. Ororo shot Jean a pointed look, which Jean countered with an overdramatic shrug and a frown. “Jean?” Raven finally blurted. Jean perked up innocently. “Yep. You three go ahead and start…doing the stuff.”

Raven sat down and stared off for a few seconds, and everyone exchanged confused glances. Finally, she abruptly slapped her hands down on her knees and stood. “Okay, then- get to it.” Over the resulting flurry of activity, she called out “Now, keep in mind that we’re gonna be here if you need us-” She gestured between her and Hank. “but I’m going to be doing a crossword puzzle, so don’t bother me unless you really have to!”

With that, Peter sped away as Ororo walked out of the plane and was swept upwards by a wind current. A few minutes later, when Peter’s voice called out from the communication devices that the coast was clear and Ororo confirmed that there was nothing interesting on the roof, Jean quickly hopped out of the plane and took to the air, just as Kurt placed a hand on Scott and Jubilee’s shoulder and all three teleported away.

As soon as everyone else was gone, Raven returned to the co-pilot’s seat. Hank spent a few seconds fussing with some dials and meters, before placing both hands back on the steering wheel and tapping it anxiously. “You know Raven, I’ve been thinking-” he started tentatively, until he glanced in Raven’s direction. She had slouched as far as possible into her chair, and had just swung her legs up onto the console, crossing them at the ankle. She reached to the side of her chair to retrieve a well-worn book of crossword puzzles and opened it, removing the pen from between the pages and clicking it loudly and repeatedly as she started looking over the questions. “Oh- you weren’t kidding about the crossword puzzle?” Hank remarked.     

She looked to him, with a serious, perplexed expression. “Well, yeah, of course. Why would I joke about something like that?” she replied flatly.

Hank scowled and went back to poking at at his dials.

******

“Okay, hon- we’re at the first computer terminal. We’re just about to start downloading the data.”

“That’s great, Jean, but my code-name’s not ‘hon.’”

“Sure thing, babe.”   

Jean grinned to herself as she inserted a floppy disk into the computer’s disk drive, and leaned back in the rickety office chair as the screen indicated that the data transfer was progressing.

“So, like, if we can’t just take the whole hard drive, Hank -uh, Beast, I guess- said to just destroy the whole thing?” Jubilee asked as she and Kurt rooted through desks and file cabinets, looking for more files.

“Yep!” Jean replied cheerfully.

“Bitchin’.”

“I’m taking these files. They look like equipment requisitions. They could help the Professor figure out who funds this operation.” Kurt stated as he shoved a folder of paperwork into the messenger bag he carried.

“’Kay.” Jean responded as she ejected the last of the floppy disks from the computer. “All done here. Light it up, Jubilee.”

Jubilee burst into giddy laughter as she tipped her bright-pink sunglasses down from above her forehead and aimed her hands at the computer. Jean and Kurt looked away to protect their eyes from the near-blinding burst of color and sound, which quickly faded to the crackle and snap of dying electronics.

Jean pressed a button on her communicator. “Alright, hon- that’s one down, five to go!”

“Jean. Stop it.” Scott’s aggravated voice rang out from the small device.

******

“Cyke, this room’s got two computers in it. We’re on a fuckin’ roll!” Jubilee called out, far too loudly, into her communicator.

“Okay, we’re getting closer, but that’s still not my code-name.” came the weary reply.

Jean and Jubilee settled in front of both computers to search them for relevant data. Kurt alternated between sorting through drawers and file cabinets and peering curiously over Jean’s shoulder. Jubilee went about her task with unmasked glee, snickering away as she frantically typed on the keyboard.

“Looks like this is the pick-me-up you needed!” Jean commented as Jubilee slammed the ‘Enter’ key and made a ‘Bam!’ sound with her mouth.

“Jean, this gig has me acting like a rad hacker chick one second, and wreckin’ shit the next. This is the best thing to happen to me since puffy stickers.”

“Jubilee, can I ask you a question?” Kurt suddenly asked politely, with his hands clasped together.

Jubilee spun towards him in her office chair. “See? See how easy it is to just call me ‘Jubilee’ or ‘Jubes’ like everyone else does?”

Kurt slouched in disappointment. “But I love your name! It suits you so well.”

Jubilee rolled her eyes. “Ugh. Fine. Whatever. What is it?”

“Could you maybe have a talk with Peter later on? He has been upset about something- very much not himself- for the past few days.” Jubilee did everything she could to avoid Jean’s pointed glare as Kurt continued. “I asked him what was bothering him, but he refused to tell us. So I just gave him a hug and told him he could find me if he ever wanted to talk. You know, normal friend things…” Kurt trailed off, before scratching his head and adding “I, um, think he appreciated the hug, because he really didn’t want to let go.” Jean and Jubilee exchanged concerned looks. Kurt wrung his hands guiltily. “To be honest, after the first few minutes it started to get a little uncomfortable…”   

“Yeah, I’m sure he’ll get over it.” Jubilee blurted, nodding rapidly. “Betcha some old prog-rock bass player just died of a heroin overdose or something like that.”

“Sounds about right!” Jean added loudly as she ejected the last floppy disk. “Let’s get a move-on!”

******

Jean, Kurt, and Jubilee made their way along a darkened, deserted corridor, and stopped in their tracks when they turned a corner and saw light creeping out from an office door. After listening carefully, faint sounds of people talking and moving around could be heard.

Jean pressed her fingertips to her temple. “Two men. They don’t know we’re here. They’re arguing about whether the singer who did ‘ _Ninety-Nine Red Balloons’_ is still hot if she has armpit hair _.”_   

“Fucking bogus. Let’s just put them out of their misery.” Jubilee groaned, tipping her sunglasses down onto her face with a quick nod.

“Do people really care about that here? What difference does it make?” Kurt whispered, confused.

“Let’s blow that door down and ask those two fuck-wads.” Jubilee responded, hands now crackling with tiny bursts of light.   

“Or we could just open the door, because it’s probably unlocked.” Jean replied flatly.

“Lame.”

By the time Jubilee was done complaining, Kurt had padded silently over the the door and threw it open. Jean and Jubilee scrambled to catch up, and all three stood in a defensive stance in the doorway, staring at the two lab-coat-wearing men on the other side of the room. Once stared into a computer screen, clacking away at the keyboard, while the other stood, coffee mug in-hand, beside him, rambling away with his back to the door.

“I’m just sayin’ that she’s hot enough that you’d get used to it.” the man at the computer argued, without looking away from the screen.

“Really? No chick is hot enough that it wouldn’t be distracting.” the other man countered.

“Like, you’d think that, but my college roommate spent a few weeks backpacking through Europe and _he_ said-”

“Ah-hem.”

Both men quickly spun their heads towards the sound of Jean clearing her throat.

“GAH! What the fuck!” the man at the computer cried out, and fell out of his chair in a scramble to get away. Simultaneously, the man who held the coffee mug calmly dropped to his knees, set his mug on the floor, and placed his hands on his head.

“Mike! Mike, be cool!” the now-kneeling man pleaded, and ‘Mike’ quickly regained his bearings and assumed the same position as the other man.

“Okay. That was easy.” Jubilee commented, with a hint of disappointment.

“Um, we were told that this might happen.” Not-Mike replied.

“And also that if we cooperated, we wouldn’t be hurt?” Mike added tentatively.

“Oh no! No one is going to be hurt. We would have preferred you not be here at all.” Kurt assured them. Mike stared and leaned away warily. “We may need you to answer some questions for our colleges, but no one wants to hurt you.”

“We might need to wax your armpits, though.” Jubilee quipped while inspecting her nails. Jean rolled her eyes and swatted at her ineffectually. The two men looked at each other in confusion.

“Is there anyone other than you two in this building?” Jean asked.

Not-Mike shook his head.

“Where are the other computer terminals?” Jean followed immediately.

“It’s two doors up the hall.” Mike answered, jerking his head in the direction he’d indicated.

Jean looked to Kurt and gave a quick nod. Kurt pressed the button on his communicator.

“Cyclops? We’ve encountered two personnel. They have been cooperative. I’ll be bringing them out shortly.”

“Finally! Thank you.” Scott’s voice rang out from the device. “And, uh, sounds good. Standing by.”

Kurt placed a hand on each man’s shoulder and teleported them away. Jean threw herself into the now-vacant computer chair and started typing on the keyboard.

“Alrighty, let’s wrap this up.”

******

Minutes later, Kurt teleported Jean and Jubilee just outside the facility, where the rest of the team and the two personnel now waited.

“Sweet! That’s it, then?” Peter said as soon as his friends appeared, rubbing his hands together.

“Not quite. We’re one terminal short.” Jubilee replied with frustration. “Mystique’s source was pretty clear that there was supposed to be six terminals, and we only got five.”

Jean nodded. “Yep. And we combed the place. No sign of it.”

“Well, it’s definitely not on the roof.” Ororo commented with a hint of annoyance.

“Huh. Gimme a sec.” Peter lowered his goggles and disappeared for no more than two seconds. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s just not there.” Jubilee rolled her eyes with a huff.

“I’m just going to update Mystique and Beast on our situation.” Scott pressed the button on his communicator. “Mystique? We have a status update.”

“This update better be in the form of a six-letter word for ‘pyramid-building people,’ where the second letter is ‘Z.’”

In the background, Hank could be faintly be heard to say “It’s ‘Aztecs,’ Raven. I told you.”

“We’ve encountered two personnel, who are waiting here with us now. They seem pretty compliant. Jean and Jubilee have retrieved the data from five of the six terminals, but the final terminal does not appear to be in the main complex.” Scott looked down in thought for a second before pressing the button on his communicator again. “We’re going to see what we can get out of these two guys. One of them has to know where the terminal is.”

“Yeah, sure. Sounds good. Just try to wrap it up as soon as you can. We wanna be outta here by dawn.” Raven’s voice sounded from the communicator.

Scott walked up to the two lab-coated employees, who were sitting on the curb next to the parking lot, and crouched down next to them. “Alright, gentlemen. Where’s the sixth terminal?”

“It’s underground!” Mike blurted instantly.

“Shut your fucking mouth.” Not-Mike hissed under his breath. Scott turned to give Mike his full attention.

“It’s underground in a sort-of bunker. I don’t know where the entrance is, but I know you need a pass-card and a code to get in, and I don’t have those, and I’ve never been in there, but I heard the other guys talking about it-” Mike ranted anxiously. Not-Mike shot him a death glare.

“Jean?” Scott looked up at Jean, who was now standing behind him.

“He’s telling the truth.” she confirmed.

“Do _you_  know how to get in?” Scott asked Not-Mike.

“I don’t know jack-shit.” Not-Mike spat.

“Well, that’s a lie.” Jean replied immediately. Not-Mike redirected his death glare to her. “He’s been in there, but he doesn’t have a pass-card.”

“Hmm.” Scott stood and placed his hand on his chin, thinking. “Nightcrawler, come here.” Kurt quickly took the few strides to Scott’s side. Scott stood between Kurt and Jean, and turned to Jean. “Jean- If you were able to see this guy’s memories of being in this underground room, do you think you could project it to Nightcrawler?” Scott gestured towards Kurt. “And if she did that, do you think you could teleport the two of you there safely?”

Jean nodded. “I can’t see why not.”

Kurt shrugged and placed his hands on his hips. “If the image is clear enough, it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Scott grinned. “Great. Let’s do it.”

Jean moved closer to Not-Mike and reached out to touch his head. He tried to jerk away, but Mike sighed heavily and shook his head. “Just fuckin’…give it up, man.” he grumbled wearily. Not-Mike scowled and eventually allowed Jean to place a hand on his head.

She closed her eyes and appeared deep in concentration for several seconds. “Yes. I got it. I see the terminal.” She walked away from Not-Mike and towards Kurt, placing the same hand on his temple. “You see it? Will that work?”

“ _Ja_ , that’s very clear.”

Jean flashed Scott a quick smile as Kurt moved his hand to her shoulder. “Back in a sec!” she called out as Kurt teleported them both away.

******

Kurt and Jean teleported adjacent to the computer terminal they had been searching for. They each had a fraction of a second to orient themselves to their surroundings- a small, square, beige room with a darkened staircase that ostensibly led upwards to the entryway, a single computer on a desk, several file cabinets, and another closed door. That closed door suddenly and loudly flew open as if it had been kicked, and a lab-coated, pistol-welding man jumped into view with a shout. Jean raised a hand to deflect any potential bullets with her telekinesis, but Kurt had already teleported directly into the man’s personal space, connecting with a headbutt to the face so forceful that the man was thrown back into a nearby wall and slumped down, unconscious. The pistol that he had immediately dropped didn’t even have a chance to hit the floor when Jean telekinetically snagged it and disassembled it into a half-dozen parts.  

“Neat.” Kurt muttered quietly when he saw what Jean had done with the gun. He stood over the awkwardly-positioned unconscious man and cringed regretfully before crouching to lay the man out on his side.  

“So, uh…that was a surprise.” Jean commented. Kurt turned to her an nodded frantically with a frown. “Could you get him restrained while I get the data off this computer?”

“ _Jawohl_.” Kurt pulled a couple of thick plastic zip ties out of a pouch at his belt and started fastening them around the man’s hands. Jean sat at the computer and started the now-familiar process of downloading the data they needed. Kurt milled about the small space, sorting through file cabinets and stuffing paper files and loose floppy disks into the messenger bag draped across his shoulder.

As Jean typed rapidly at the keyboard, Kurt wandered cautiously into the room where the man had emerged from. This room was larger and brighter, and appeared to be more of a lab than an office. There were black work benches and sinks, various pieces of scientific equipment and glassware, and Kurt shuddered when he pulled open a drawer to reveal a box of sterile, empty syringes. There were sharps containers and red bins marked with a biohazard sign. Most interestingly, there was a metal door with a keypad and a electronic terminal where a pass-card could be swiped.

Kurt leaned around the door frame and made a “Pssst.” sound to get Jean’s attention. “Jean! When you are done, there is something we should check out in here!” he whispered.

“Sure. And stop whispering.” Jean replied with a pointed look. “I’ll just be a sec.”

Kurt leaned against the door frame and watched with interest as Jean ejected the last floppy disk and packed it into her messenger bag, and then raised her left hand and slowly made a fist. As she did, the metal casing of the computer collapsed on itself, with smoke curling out from the seams and sparks arcing across the now-deformed surface.

“That looks fun.” Kurt said pleasantly.   

“It is!” Jean confirmed, and flashed him a smile.

They both entered the lab space and looked around. Kurt pointed out some of the more disturbing features and Jean cringed. When they stood in front of the locked metal door, Jean gestured back towards the still-unconscious staff member. “That guy has some kinda card around his neck on a lanyard. I wonder if that’s the pass-card?”

“Hmm.” Kurt teleported back to the man, retrieved the card, and teleported back to Jean and handed it to her.

“Okay. Let me see what I can do about the code. Can you bring that guy in here in case he wakes up? We don’t need him getting sneaky.”        

Kurt quickly fetched the still-very-unconscious man and teleported into the lab, close to the metal door. He was fussing with whether to lay him back down or prop him up in a sitting position when he heard the keypad beeping as Jean typed in a four-digit number. A positive-sounding beep was heard in response, and the locking mechanism disengaged.

“Oh! You were able to read his mind for the pass code, even though he is unconscious?” Kurt said, sounding impressed.

“Um, no. I just guessed that it would be ‘one-two-three-four.’ Because these guys are idiots.” Jean replied flatly. Kurt shrugged and started moving the man back down to his side as Jean stepped cautiously into the newly-unlocked room.

“Kurt! Get in here!” Jean’s voice called urgently from a short distance away. “Get in here right now and tell me I’m not hallucinating!”

******

“So, uh- this ‘being an X-Man’ thing? It’s fucking boring.” Peter said to no one as he cracked his gum obnoxiously.

Scott groaned. “Chill out, man. It’s been, like, fifteen minutes. Not every mission is going to be breaking your dad out of the Pentagon.” Peter rolled his eyes and blew a large bubble while pacing away.

“I actually agree with Quicksilver on this. This has been a very long and tedious night for me.” Ororo lamented. “I had nothing to do the entire mission.”

“Says the chick who could have livened things up with a tornado _at any time_.” Jubilee mumbled under her breath. Ororo raised an eyebrow at her.

“You didn’t have ‘nothing to do.’ You’re helping us keep tabs on those guys.” Scott replied, gesturing towards the two personnel who still sat on the curb.

“The hostages?” Ororo whispered back, leaning closer to Scott.

“The hos-?! They’re not hostages!” Scott whispered harshly back. Ororo leaned away with her hands up.

“Storm raises a good point. What the hell are we going to do with these guys?” Jubilee asked. “Like, can we arrest them? Do we just let them go? Do we put them on a Greyhound bus to Reno?”

“I’m pretty sure if we take them off the property, it’s kidnapping.” Peter chimed in. Jubilee and Ororo looked at each other and frowned.

Scott scowled and shook his head slightly for a few seconds. “You know what? I’m just gonna check and see how much longer Nightcrawler and Jean are gonna be…” He pressed the button on his communicator. “Jean? Can we get a status update?” Only a soft, crackling static sound was heard. “Jean? How are you guys doing? Do you need help?” Again, nothing. Everyone else exchanged concerned glances. Scott fiddled with the settings on his communicator. “Nightcrawler? What’s going on? Can you hear me?” Nothing. Scott adjusted the settings again. “Mystique?”

“Goddammit, Cyclops.”

“I can’t get Jean or Nightcrawler on the comms. I just get static.”

“Where are they?”

“They’re in a hidden section of the facility, retrieving the data from the final terminal. Jean got the location from one of the personnel, and Nightcrawler teleported them there.”

“But you have no idea where _that_  actually is? Like, how far?”

“No. We know it’s underground. Like, it was described as a bunker.”

“Ugh. Dammit.” Mystique’s frustration was palpable even as it rang out from the communicator.

“The communication devices were not tested for underground use. It’s likely that the signal just isn’t making it through.” It was Hank’s voice that emanated from the device this time.

“How were we supposed to know that?” Scott snapped into the communicator. His teammates stood by, anxious and silent.

Hank’s heavy sigh was heard from the device. “You weren’t. It was an oversight.”

Scott threw his head back and raked both hands through his hair. Ororo reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. He took a deep breath before speaking into the device again. “Okay. I’ll guess we’ll just keep trying them, and also try to reach out to Jean psychically. We’ll keep you posted.”

“Sounds good.”

******

Kurt scrambled as fast as he could to get to Jean, to see what had caused such a dramatic reaction from her. Panic began to grip him as soon as he entered the room beyond the metal door and he saw her, her back to him, and heard her muttering “Oh God, oh God- what the hell is going on!?” under her breath.

Once he saw what she was looking at, he understood completely. His hands flew up to cover his mouth as he gasped “ _Gott im Himmel_.”

Before them, housed in identical clear plastic incubators, were two infants, no more than a couple months old. The larger of the two had olive-toned skin, thick black hair, a round face, and large brown eyes that looked about curiously. The card at the front of the incubator didn’t have a name or birth-date, just a ten-digit serial number and a ‘male’ symbol. He reached up with small, grasping hands at his two new observers while making quiet cooing noises. The smaller baby was sleeping peacefully, and was also assigned a ten-digit number and the ‘female’ symbol. Her skin was just slightly more pink than one would expect, and in place of hair she had a head covered in slim, fleshy orange tendrils that were about an inch long. She stirred slightly, and one eye opened lazily to reveal a secondary eyelid underneath it, which retracted to the side to briefly reveal an eye the same color as her ‘hair.’ She twitched slightly and blew a couple spit-bubbles and was soon fast asleep again.

“We, uh…we gotta get them out of here. Now.” Jean finally said. Kurt nodded emphatically. “We should probably get them to a hospital. I’ll let Beast know what’s going on, he might know what to do in the meantime…”

Kurt, dumbfounded, continued to nod. Jean adjusted the settings on her communicator. Kurt watched as she tried, and failed, to contact Hank, Scott, Raven, and everyone else on the team, one after another. Kurt took another look at the two babies, clad only in diapers in barren, sterile incubators.

“They will be cold.” he said, mainly to himself, and started throwing open drawers and cabinets until he found a collection of flannel receiving blankets. Jean paused her futile attempt to contact her teammates to watch as Kurt took each baby and wrapped them in a neat, snug swaddle.

“Wow. No offense, but I really didn’t picture that as being one of your skills.” Jean commented as she watched Kurt place the sleeping female baby back into the incubator while easily cradling the male baby in one arm.

He returned a pleasant smile. “Oh! Well, when I was growing up, there were always young families with babies. We all took turns helping out. It’s just how we do things.” Jean smiled in response, until she noticed Kurt looking at the communicator she still held in her hand.

“Yeah, I don’t think it’s working. Let’s just wrap things up here and teleport right back to the Blackbird so Beast can check these guys out.” She clipped the communicator back to her uniform and finished her sentence by redirecting her attention to the still-dozing baby in the incubator, carefully picking the baby up and shifting into a quiet, happy, baby-friendly tone. The baby stirred only slightly.

“I agree. We should also take some infant supplies, just in case.” Kurt replied, as he gently rocked the baby he held with one arm, while using his tail to hold open his messenger bag and his other hand to throw in fist-fulls of clean diapers and a few canisters of formula that were sitting on a nearby shelf.

“Good idea.” Jean confirmed, and immediately grabbed a couple baby bottles and tub of diaper cream, stuffing them into her bag. Between the two of them, they also took the baby’s identification cards and a few pieces of paperwork that had been lying around.

They had just about finished when a low, pained grown was heard from the adjacent room.

“V _erdammt._ I had almost forgotten about him.” Kurt muttered. He carefully, yet somewhat awkwardly, handed the baby he was carrying to Jean. “Please hold him. I will just be a moment.” He walked out of the room and immediately teleported back in with the now-semi-conscious staff member. He carefully sat the man up and crouched in front of him. The man opened his eyes groggily and seemed bewildered, but not overly frightened.

“You’re awake!” Kurt stated pleasantly, and the man nodded, and looked around him in confusion. His eyes widened and he started to move around in a frantic yet uncoordinated way. Kurt placed his hands firmly on the man’s shoulders. “Please stay seated. You may have a headache. Try not to move around too much. You’ll be seeing a doctor soon.” The man stared back dimly and complied.

“We’ll need you to answer questions about your employer.” Jean added sharply.

“Okay.” came the man’s meek reply.

Kurt busied himself by fussing with the man’s restraints as the man appeared to doze off. Kurt looked up at Jean, who still held the two infants and had unconsciously started swaying as she stood. She tilted her head when she noticed Kurt staring.

He smiled at her warmly. “It looks good on you.”  

She smiled and looked away, despite herself, for a few seconds before she raised an eyebrow at him. “Twins, though?”

He smirked and shrugged. “Why not? Some people are doubly blessed.”

She scoffed and shook her head, still smiling. Kurt stood and reached out to take one of the babies. She handed him the still-sleeping female baby. “We’ll just check out the rest of these drawers, and then we can go.” Kurt said, as he settled the baby into the crook of his arm. Jean nodded once and they both started sorting through the drawers.

******

“Any luck psychically contacting Jean?” Jubilee asked Scott, her voice tinged with concern.

“Ugh. Not yet.” Scott replied. “Storm? Maybe you should give it a try. You and Jean have a good, um, ‘psychic rapport,’ Jean has said.”

Ororo gave a frustrated shrug. “What do you think I’ve been doing this entire time?”

Jubilee held both her hands up. “Guys? Maybe I should give it a shot. I’m the only one who can psychically wake her up if she’s asleep.”

Scott dropped his arms to his sides and turned to Jubilee. “You’re not the only one who can do that. You’re just the only one with enough of a deathwish to try it.”

Peter crossed his arms and cracked his gum loudly. “So I’m thinking that the reason Jean isn’t responding is that she’s just so sick of the three of you ‘yap-yap-yaping’ inside her head, that now  she’s ignoring you.” he explained snarkily, complete with ‘talking hand’ gesturing.  

“That’s uh…that’s a real possibility.” Scott conceded.

The sudden sound of shuffling and yelling drew the attention of all three X-Men, as they turned to find that the previously compliant staff members were fighting each other.

“Christ! No!” Mike yelled, trying to wrench something out of Not-Mike’s hand. “Paul’s in there! The subjects are in there!”

Not-Mike twisted away, rolling onto the ground and curling up defensively around his left hand. “Fuck Paul! Fuck those fucking freaks!”

“What is that?! What do you have?” Ororo demanded as she, Jubilee, and Scott ran towards the commotion. Peter almost-instantly appeared to stand over Not-Mike, as the man now groaned and cradled his wrist. Peter now held Not-Mike’s wristwatch up for all to see. On closer inspection, it appeared that the back of the watch had been pried off, revealing a hidden switch that had been flipped.

Mike covered his head and screamed. The X-Men stared at the switch and at each other, and Ororo covered her mouth and grabbed Scott’s forearm involuntarily.

It was a remote detonator. Within a fraction of a second, the deafening sound of an explosion and the resulting shockwave threw them all to the ground.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is from the 1979 Talking Head's song "Life During Wartime." The rest of the lyric is "This ain't no party, this ain't no disco, This ain't no fooling around. I'd like to kiss you, I'd love you hold you. I ain't got no time for that now." Talking Heads lyrics are just so great. 
> 
> The "joke" I finally landed was, in case no one remembers back that far, about Jean not wanting to come up with a code-name, and thus telepathically convincing Raven that "Jean" is her code name. No one's needed to use code-names up until this point, so it's taken this long to bring that up again. 
> 
> I also realize, in retrospect, that when trying to write a chapter with action, I accidentally assigned everyone desk jobs. Oops. Write what you know, I guess... 
> 
> Next chapter might be a bit of a roller coaster.


	36. Lunatic Fringe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The dust finally settles after last chapter's events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of different things going on in this long-ass chapter. All kinds of mood swings. Spoiler alert for "The NeverEnding Story" (1984)

“- _Keine Schwäche in meinem Schritt, Gott will nicht, dass mein Fuß rutscht, oder mein Vormund schlafen. Er führt mich von allem Übel_ -”

“Kurt? Kurt. It’s fine. You can let go of me now.”

“ _Gott sei Dank_ ”

“Can we go back to English, please?”

“Sorry, sorry.”

Kurt took his arm from around Jean’s shoulder, and stepped back a couple inches. They each held one of the infants, who had been sandwiched safely between them. The staff member was seated at Kurt’s heel, with Kurt’s tail around his chest.

In the underground bunker, they had been sifting through drawers and shelves, looking for important supplies and documents, when the lights dimmed red and a harsh, droning sound emanated loudly from the far corner of the next-door laboratory. Immediately, the semi-conscious staff member started screaming incoherently. Not understanding why, Jean and Kurt shot each other a glance that said ‘We need to leave NOW.’ In the time it took for Kurt to teleport to the staff member, snag him, and then teleport to Jean, Jean managed to generate a telekinetic force field that was just barely large enough to contain all five people. Just as the devastating explosive force of flame and shrapnel moved through the room, they teleported together to the first place Kurt could think of.

“So, um…Kurt, where are we?” Jean asked as she tried to settle the now-crying male baby in her arms. She had to raise her voice to be heard over the sound of the staff member, who had never really stopped screaming the entire time. “Can you shut up?!” she demanded sharply, and the man managed to suppress his screaming in favor of a pathetic whining sound.   

“Heh, well-” Kurt pursed his lips and looked around, embarrassed. They were standing on the catwalk in front of a large highway billboard sign that advertised a new type of fast food chicken sandwich, complete with a limited-time combo special. “It was the first place I could think of.”

“Huh. So were you, like, hungry or something?” Jean resettled the baby to her other arm, shushing it gently.

“You have to admit it’s a good bargain.” Kurt mumbled quietly, looking away. “I saw it when the Blackbird was landing.”

Jean nodded, before glancing down at the babies they both held, the blubbering man at their feet, the ten-foot-tall chicken sandwich behind them, and the rising column of smoke and flame in the distance. She sighed and shook her head. “What a clusterfuck.” she muttered, until a sudden realization struck her. “Oops!” she said, quickly covering the baby’s ear with her hand.

Kurt tried, and failed, to suppress his amusement. “I don’t think we need to worry about them swearing.” he assured Jean with a bright grin, and soon they were both laughing.

“If their first word is ‘fuck,’ then I’m blaming you!” Jean retorted with a wag of her finger.

“Me!? They’d never hear it from me!” Kurt replied, trying to sound insulted while clutching the baby he held closer. They laughed again, until Kurt’s expression suddenly straightened. “Jean? You have- just…here, let me-” He used his free hand to reach into one of the pouches of his belt to tug out a tissue, leaning forward to press it against Jean’s hairline, just as a drop of blood she hadn’t noticed running down her forehead dripped off her brow and onto her cheek.  

“What is it?” Jean hissed at the slight sting at her hairline.

“It’s a cut. Not that big, but head wounds bleed a lot…”

“Huh. I guess my force field wasn’t one-hundred-percent effective.”

“I’d say the fact that we all got to keep all of our limbs suggests that it was effective enough.”

“Um, most of our limbs, anyways.” Jean said with a cringe. Kurt’s attention had forced her to look downwards, which caused her to note the thick stream of blood that ran from his calf down his white boot. There appeared to be a small piece of metal shrapnel embedded in his calf muscle. “Kurt- your leg…”

“Oh!” Kurt exclaimed as his looked down at his own injury. Jean took over applying pressure to her own head as he moved his leg around. “Ow. Ow ow ow ow ow.”

“Oh, come on! You didn’t even notice it until I pointed it out to you!” Jean argued.

“ _Ja_ , but now it’s all I can think about!” Kurt stood with his injured leg held up, like an awkward blue flamingo.

“You aren’t going to faint, are you? Cuz we need you to _not faint_.” Jean stated seriously.

“Faint? Please. I’m not Scott.” Kurt dismissed with a serious nod.

Jean snorted a laugh and leaned closer to him. “Come on. Let’s move this party back to the Blackbird.”

Kurt placed one hand on her shoulder, and tightened his tail around the still-whimpering man at his feet, and they all disappeared with a “BAMF.’

******

Jean, Kurt, the facility employee, and the two now-sleeping infants appeared in the middle of the Blackbird in a loud burst of smoke and noise. The instant they did, Hank and Raven, who seemed to be in the middle of a heated argument, spun around and gawked at them.

“Hey, guys.” Jean called out, as soon as she had regained her bearings. “Things went a little sideways on the mission, so now we have, um…” She paused to gesture uselessly at the two infants, before snapping her fingers and pointing at the staff member now sitting on the floor.

“Paul.” the man weakly offered.

“We have two babies and a Paul.” Kurt finished, as Jean nodded.

“You…weren’t in the explosion?” Hank asked tentatively. Raven continued to stare with her mouth open, gripping the back of her seat.

“No, we were on a chicken billboard.” Kurt answered plainly.

“There was an alarm. We just barely got away in time.” Jean elaborated.

“Oh!” Kurt exclaimed suddenly, and gestured towards Hank with his free hand. “If you want to take _her_ ,” He motioned towards the sleeping baby in the crook of his arm. “I can go get the rest of the team?” Jean smiled and nodded.

Hank stood up and walked down the aisle of the plane, looking Kurt up and down. “Not with _that_  leg, you’re not. Have a seat.”

Kurt opened his mouth to argue, but was interrupted by Raven. “Before you guys do anything, you might wanna give the team a shout on the comms.” she said, a little shakily. “They think you’re both fucking dead.”

******

"Shit! Scott, don’t!”

“Get off me!”

Jubilee had barely lifted her head off the ground when she saw Scott pull himself to his knees and stare down the man who had activated the detonator, before reaching for his visor. She tackled him, wrapping both arms around his and trying to pull it away from his head as Not-Mike cowered and curled into a ball. Mike was still sitting on the curb with his arms over his head. Peter saw the commotion and was instantly at Scott’s other side, with both arms wrapped around his chest, pinning Scott’s other arm to him.

“Look- we all want to, but we can’t!” Jubilee argued. Scott stopped resisting immediately, but threw his head back in an agonized groan.

“Fuck. I know.”

Peter stood, pulling Scott to his feet. Jubilee stood with them, still clutching Scott’s arm. Scott turned to Peter, the visor hiding his expression but the movements of his head making it seem as though he was searching Peter’s face. “Did you even-did you try to check? Did you go after them? Maybe there was a chance-” Scott asked, forceful and desperate, grasping at Peter’s jacket.    

“Yes, I checked! I checked five fucking times!” Peter answered, just as intensely. “There was nothing-” he added, much quieter. “the explosion came from underground, it was over by the time we even saw it…”

Scott tipped his head back again, silent and with a pained expression. Jubilee looked to Ororo, who was just now picking herself up off the ground. Jubilee moved her hand from around Scott’s arm to Peter’s hand, which was clutching Scott’s chest. She and Peter made eye contact. “You got him?” she asked, just above a whisper.

“Yeah, I got him.”

In the time this took, Ororo had started walking towards the billowing tower of smoke that now emanated from a crater about five hundred yards from their position, located in the middle of what had appeared to be an undeveloped green space. Her arms raised slowly from her sides and her eyes clouded over with white. The wind picked up, black clouds swirling overhead.  

“I’m going to put out the fire. There may have been a place to shield them from the explosion within the bunker.” she stated, with an unnerving level of calm.

Peter winced, his brows furrowed in a deeply regretful expression. “Look, ‘Ro-” he started, but was cut off by Jubilee.

“Just- just _let her_.”

Peter nodded once, and Jubilee walked to where Ororo now stood. She tried to reach for Ororo’s arm, only to be shrugged away just as the rain started to fall.    

“What _the fuck_  just happened? Cyclops, I need a status update, NOW.” Raven’s voice rang out from Scott’s communication device, harsh and urgent.

Peter watched Scott blanch and reach for the device, pausing with his fingers on it, wearing the expression of a man who’d just lost his girlfriend, and now had to tell his mentor that her son was also dead. Faster than Scott could react, Peter snatched the communication device off of the front of Scott’s uniform before running into the middle of the empty parking lot.  

He took a deep breath. “That explosion, it-” He swallowed hard and closed his eyes. “It came from the bunker that Jean and Nightcrawler had gone to.”

Nothing. Absolute silence from the communication device as seconds ticked by.

Peter paced anxiously and rubbed his lower face until the soft static hum of the communicator caught his attention.

“Quicksilver?” Hank’s voice this time.

“Yeah, I’m here.”

“Are we absolutely certain that that’s what happened?”

“As far as I can tell. The facility staff we have here said as much.” He took another deep breath. “One of the guys had a remote detonator hidden in his watch. We didn’t see it until he had already set it off. The other guy said that there was at least one other employee in the bunker, too. I checked all around the blast site, and it looked like the entire thing was completely destroyed.”  

“...Oh. I see.”

“ I’ll check again once Storm’s put the fire out”

“Alright. Standing by.” Hank’s voice rang with empty, forced professionalism, tinged with underlying dread.

Peter walked back to Scott and placed the communicator into his hand.

“Thank you.” he muttered quietly, as he clipped it back onto his uniform.

“Don’t mention it.”

Both were completely soaked due to the heavy rains that Ororo had called down to put out the fire, and Peter looked over to see Jubilee grasping Ororo’s shoulders, shaking her slightly, presumably begging her to stop. Only after several seconds of this did Ororo finally let her arms fall to her sides as her head drooped. Jubilee threw her arms around her neck and hugged her close, rubbing her back. The rain tapered off and the clouds began to dissipate, revealing that the very first glimmer of dawn on the horizon.   

“Scott? Guys?” a voice rang out from Scott’s communicator. It sounded like Jean.

Scott froze, and he and Peter stared at each other. Before Scott could react, Peter snatched the communicator from his uniform again.

“I swear to fucking God if this is Mystique, then it’s some sick fucking shit-” Peter rambled quickly into the device.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck did I ever do to make you think I’d pull something like that?” Raven’s voice called out from Peter’s communicator.

Peter frowned and tossed Scott’s communication device back to him. He caught it easily and spoke into it. “Jean? Is that you? You’re okay?” he asked shakily.

“Yes, hon. I’m here. I’m fine.”

Scott gasped, covering his mouth with his hand. Peter looked to where Jubilee and Ororo still stood, and tried to get their attention by waving his arms, and then motioning them towards him when Jubilee finally noticed.

“What happened, Jean? We saw the explosion. We had no idea how-” Scott rambled into the device, trying to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“We- It’s a long story. We’ll tell you on the flight home. The short version is that we got out in time.”

“Is Kurt there, too?” Scott practically whispered into the communicator, feeling a little guilty now that Ororo was standing right next to him.

“Oh, shit. Yes. He’s here. Sorry. I should have said that right off the bat.” Jean confirmed. “Hank’s doing some first aid on a minor leg wound he has, and he wouldn’t stop fidgeting, so Raven took his communicator away. That’s why he hasn’t said anything.”

“Tell them that’s why I didn’t come get them already!” Kurt could be heard to yell in the background. “Doctor McCoy won’t let me!”

“Hold still!” Hank chastised.

“Uh, you guys probably heard all that.” Jean said.

“Oh! Jean! Tell Ororo I’m sorry! That I might have made her worry!” Kurt pleaded loudly, and Hank mumbled angrily at him again.

“I think she heard you!” Jean yelled back to him. Ororo, who had been listening silently with both hands over her lower face, laughed suddenly despite herself, then sniffed and wiped her face -wet with rain and tears- with her hands.

Before Ororo could say anything, Jubilee leaned into Scott’s chest and grabbed his communicator. “You two can _both_  be sorry for making us worry, you little shits!” she ranted angrily.  

Before Jean could respond, the sharp sound of a baby wailing could be heard over the device. “Jean, what the hell was that?” Scott questioned.

“Like I said. It’s a long story.” came Jean’s weary reply. “Can you guys make it back to the Blackbird? There are some things we have to go over.”

******

“I can’t believe Scott has never held a baby before.”

“That’s because he _is_  the baby. He’s the youngest kid in his whole family.”

“Ew. I wish I could say I never held a baby. Babies are the worst.”

Jean, Ororo, and Jubilee stood in a close huddle on one side of the Blackbird, taking in the spectacle before them. Scott was seated on the other side of the plane, nervously anticipating being handed the female baby, which was currently being held by Kurt. Hank had already examined the female baby and deemed her healthy, and was currently checking out the male baby closer to the cockpit. Kurt was crouched on one side of Scott, giving thorough instructions and descriptions on how a baby should be held. To the other side, Peter leaned over Scott’s shoulder, coaching him on how to position his arms.

“I knew Kurt had experience with young children from his circus years, but I’m honestly surprised by Peter.” Ororo commented.

“Yeah, Peter’s, like, _super_ good with kids. His sister was born when he was, like, eleven, and he’s always played a pretty big part in lookin’ after her, so…” Jubilee explained casually. Ororo nodded along.

“Guys, guys- I think I got it, just hand her over.” Scott pleaded, clearly having become frustrated with his friend’s overbearing instructions. Peter watched intently as Kurt started the always-awkward process of handing a baby to another person.

“Just make sure her head is supported, and-”

“Yes, I know, just-” Scott huffed, but was silenced as soon as Kurt placed the bright-eyed, squirming baby into his arms. She blinked at him and smiled, gurgling quietly. “Oh, heyyy buddy!” he cooed softly, as Kurt and Peter flashed each other a ‘mission accomplished’ smile.

“ _God damn_. Boom, there go my ovaries.” Jean muttered under her breath. Ororo laughed and shook her head.

“Seriously, Jean? Gross.” Jubilee scolded. She elbowed Ororo in the ribs. “Back me up, here.”

“Why? I like children.” Ororo replied with a shrug. “I do prefer older children to infants, though. Old enough that you can talk to them and teach them things.” Jubilee responded with a disgusted scoff.

The sound of Raven loudly stomping up the stairs leading to the Blackbird was completely ignored by the three girls as they, Jean in particular, continued to stare at the boys. Raven, immediately changing from her ‘pretty blonde’ look to her normal blue self, spared a glance at the girls and then frowned intensely when she noticed what was going on.

“Oh, goddammit. Stop it! Stop looking. Don’t get any ideas.” Raven demanded as she shooed the girls away. “We had whole class about this. Move along!” The girls complained but did as told.

Raven walked up to Hank, who had just finished examining the male baby. “So, what’s the deal here?” she asked, peering around his shoulder at the baby, who was beginning to fuss.

“Well, it appears that Baby B is every bit as healthy as Baby A.” Hank stated proudly.

“You mean Christopher and Liesel?” Kurt chimed in from the other side of the plane.

“Shit. They named them.” Raven huffed gravely. “Oh God. Oh fuck.”

“It was either that or Nathan.” Jean commented with a toss of her hair.

Scott grinned at the female baby he still held, who was apparently ‘Liesel.’ “Aw! Lisa.”

“Liesel.” Kurt corrected politely, as he reached over to affectionately re-tuck the blanket she was partially wrapped in. “It means ‘Oath of God.’”

“Leezil?”

“No, Liesel.”

“Fuck, I hate that you’re naming my first kid.”

“Don’t worry, _Freund_. Jean and I discussed some possible options. We’ve agreed on a few already.”

Scott opted not to argue further, and instead tipped his head back with an aggravated groan.

At the very least, the presence of the two babies served to undercut the heavy emotional strain from the night’s events. When Ororo, Scott, Jubilee, and Peter first returned from the facility with the two personnel in tow, Raven offered to watch over the group of three facility employees so that everyone else could get caught up with the current situation. When Scott climbed up the stairs to the Blackbird, he stopped in his tracks when he saw Jean cradling both infants in her arms. She smiled at him expectantly as everyone else piled into the plane- resulting in what was probably supposed to be a tender, personal reunion rapidly devolved into an ungainly group-hug situation. One that Kurt, still being worked on by Hank, loudly complained that he was left out of.

‘Christopher’ and ‘Liesel’ also helped provide a welcome distraction during the now-extended wait in the Blackbird. Once Jean and Kurt had explained exactly what they had encountered in the now-exploded bunker, the mission became infinitely more complicated. Hank and Raven both had long phone conversations with Charles back at the mansion, local police, the fire department, and child protective services. Raven donned her blond, professional, human-looking persona to talk with local law enforcement about the three personnel, and the role of the X-Men in the ensuing investigation.   

Raven now stood at the front of the plane near the cockpit. She watched as people milled about, chatted, and took turns holding and soothing now-fussing infants. She took a deep breath and sighed, lowering her head and pinching the bridge of her nose for a few seconds before speaking. “Alright, listen up!” she called out over the din of people. “Couple of things, then we should be able to wrap things up and head home shortly…” She waited as everyone filed back to their seats and listened intently.

“Okay, first of all- I just want to say I’m really impressed with how everything turned out today. I know things didn’t go as intended. Things got a little weird. Things got a little intense. I will be following up on how, exactly, things got as out-of-hand as they did. But as it stands, I think everyone did really well, all things considered.”

A brief round of restrained, pleasant cheers were heard.  

“That said, I do have some critical feedback, most of which I’ll give individually in the near future. However, one thing needs to be said to everyone- the ‘code-names only’ rule lasted about five minutes, tops. We all gotta work on this, guys. I know it feels weird to call people by different names, but it’s the way it’s gotta be. Starting immediately, all Danger Room sessions and practices will be code-names only.”

A few annoyed grumbles resounded from the back of the plane.

“Okay. Moving on. In regards to the mission itself, and what I’ve learned from talking with the Professor and law enforcement, I have bad news, good news, and then more good news, and some more bad news.”

There was some shuffling as everyone settled in to listen.

“Okay, first bit of bad news: Kidnapping is apparently a federal crime, so since we rescued those babies, the FBI is going to be involved with this investigation from here on out.” She waited until the disappointed groans died down. “Related to this- Kurt and Ororo? No talking to anyone wearing a tie or a uniform without having Jean or Charles nearby. I’m pretty sure you’re both illegal immigrants.”

Kurt and Ororo exchanged grim expressions, as Hank leaned closer to them and whispered something about re-submitting paperwork next week.

“The good news, though, is that since Charles has connections within the FBI, we’ll be able to ensure everything is actually followed-up on and dealt with properly. No getting away with this shit just because it’s a crime against mutants.”

She allowed herself to smile slightly at the round of boisterous cheers that erupted.

“The _other_  good news is that, because the Feds are taking the case over, we don’t have to deal with those three jackasses that were in the facility anymore.” Less enthusiastic, affirmative murmurs were heard. “The guy who actually had the detonator? His name was Keith, by the way.”

A round of boos and groans was heard. “Ugh! He fuckin’ _looks like_  a Keith!” Jubilee called out.

“And now the last of the bad news: Because the two babies are, in all likelihood, mutants, and Hank is a the only nearby medical doctor with any recognized expertise in treating mutant children, we have to keep them for the foreseeable future. At least until we find out where they came from.”

Raven shook her head and rubbed her eyes wearily as a small burst of cheering was heard throughout the plane.

“Anyway. Let’s just go home.”

******

“ _Mein Gott_ \- Where did that come from?!”

“From my tray, right there.”

“Certainly those can’t all be necessary!”

Hank set down the syringe he was holding on a metal tray that held two other filled syringes. Kurt crossed his arms, his posture hunched stiffly, as he warily watched Hank describe the contents of each syringe. “That one is lidocaine. It’ll make it so I can remove the shrapnel, clean the wound, and put in a few stitches without you feeling it. The next one is a tetanus booster. That’s so you don’t _die_  of _lockjaw_. And this last one is morphine. You’ll love morphine. Everyone loves morphine.”

Kurt narrowed his eyes skeptically, shifting his gaze from the needles, to Hank, and then to his bandaged leg. He was seated on the very edge of an exam table in Hank’s lab, nervously wringing his hands while his tail writhed in agitation. Nearby, Jean flipped through an outdated ‘Reader’s Digest’ as she waited her turn to get stitches.“But you already fixed it on the plane.” Kurt finally said in a small voice.

Hank sighed wearily. “I didn’t ‘fix’ it. I just stabilized the foreign body and stopped the bleeding. I’m trying to ‘fix’ it now.”

“Well, it’s not unlike a big splinter, _nicht wahr_?” Kurt argued desperately. “If we leave it, it would just grow out on it’s own?”

Hank struggled not to let his frustration show. “Theoretically, perhaps. But it would take weeks or months, the pain would be incapacitating, and the risk of major infection would be extremely high.”

“Can we move this along?” Jean asked, tossing aside the magazine. “Scott’s waiting for me.”

“Yes. Great idea.” Kurt agreed, nodding frantically and emphatically. “Help Jean first.”

Hank furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Yours is really the more serious of the two injuries. Plus, if I take my eyes off you, I have a sneaking suspicion that your _Aichmophobia_ will get the better of you. _”_  

Kurt gasped. “Is that serious?” he whispered.

“He’s talking about your fear of needles.” Jean explained as she rifled through Hank’s dismal collection of magazines.

“I’m not afraid of needles! I just hate them and do everything in my power to avoid them.” Kurt corrected.

Jean set looked up at Hank, head tilted, and gestured towards Kurt. “Do you want me to just…”

“Please.” Hank replied pleadingly.

With the barest touch of her fingertips to her temple, she gestured at Kurt with her other hand, and his eyes immediately rolled back into his head, and he pitched forward, unconscious. Hank scrambled to catch him and reposition him on the exam table, as he was now completely limp.

“I’ll never get used to how fast that happens!” Hank commented, impressed, as he started cutting away the old bandaging from Kurt’s leg wound.

Jean gave an easy shrug and flipped through an ancient ‘People Magazine’.

“You really should consider a career in Anesthesiology.” Hank continued.

“Really? You don’t think I’d get bored?” Jean set down her magazine and re-took the stance she used to render Kurt unconscious. “Just- ‘Go to sleep. Go to sleep. Go to sleep.’ All day, every day.”

Hank gestured towards Jean with a set of surgical tweezers. “It’s good money.” Jean shrugged and picked her magazine back up.

 

Kurt awoke with a start on a gurney on the other side of Hank’s lab. He looked about frantically, kicking and feeling around him as the realization slowly dawned on him that he was not only in a different location, but he was wearing different clothes. Now wearing a gray set of ‘Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters’- branded t-shirt and sweatpants, he sat on the edge of the gurney and sternly crossed his arms. Across the lab, Hank was putting the finishing touches on Jean’s stitches before applying a small bandage. Kurt glared at her with righteous indignation. “Jean, I can’t believe you would do that.”  

Jean shook her head as much as Hank would allow, and gave a small, exasperated shrug. “How do you think we got Jubilee’s wisdom teeth out?”

Kurt scowled briefly and narrowed his eyes at Jean and Hank, before relaxing with a sigh and hopping off the bed. He started limping quickly for the lab door. “Can I go now?” he called out, almost as an afterthought.

“Yes.” Hank confirmed. “Just try to stay off that leg and no teleporting for at least the next day or two.”

Kurt stopped at the door, head tilted. “I can’t do both things. I can do one or the other.”

Hank paused, Jean’s bandage still in-hand, as Jean tried to suppress her smile at Hank’s frustration. “Just try to take it easy.”

“Okay! _Vielen Dank_!”

******

Upon arriving back to the mansion, Jubilee took a quick shower and changed into her everyday clothes and then wandered around for a few minutes, unsure of what to do. It was now late morning, and, despite having been up all night, going to bed just didn’t seem right. She noted that she was hungry, but just couldn’t find the focus or motivation to prepare food. Soon, she had wandered aimlessly into the TV room and thrown herself onto the couch, flipping channels compulsively.

Unannounced, Peter leapfrogged over the back of the couch and bounced into the seat next to her. She acknowledged him with a glance and an upward nod. He nodded back, before looking straight ahead, covering his face with his hands, leaning back and releasing an anguished, muffled yell.

Jubilee turned to him, gesturing frantically. “Omigawd! Like, _I know_ , right?!”

He nodded rapidly, face etched by the emotional strain of the day. “Today was awful. I never wanna do that again.”

Jubilee stared back with the same intensity. “Agreed. I’m, like, _shit_  at consoling people. Like, _complete shit_.”

“Fuck. Me too.” Peter relaxed somewhat and sank into the couch. “I think everyone is. There’s just no good way to say ‘Hey dude, sorry about your exploded girlfriend.’”

Jubilee frowned and picked at the fray of her cut-off denim shorts. “Yeah, I’m thinking that maybe we should have had, like, an ‘Introduction to Crisis Counseling’ class rather than a Sex Ed class.”

Peter nodded slowly in agreement.

After a minute of silence ticked by, and Jubilee flipped back through all the channels for the umpteenth time, she chewed her lip and just barely tilted her head in Peter’s direction. “So, um…what do you wanna do now?”

“Oh, shit! Right!” Peter exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “We are gonna do the same thing that my sister and me would do whenever we had a harrowing fucking emotional disaster of a day…” he explained as he dropped from the couch to the floor to knee-walk the short distance to the VCR and the box underneath it where a collection of videocassettes were stored. “We’re gonna watch dumb kid’s movies and forget it ever happened.”

A short time later, they were watching the opening minutes of ‘ _The NeverEnding Story_.’ They were seated close together but not touching, and the conversation was cautious yet friendly. He hadn’t said anything about the other night, and she certainly wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up. Jubilee wondered to herself if this was just the way things were going to be now. And if so, was that okay?

“Damn! I almost forgot!” Peter announced suddenly, slapping both hands down on his knees immediately before he dashed out of the room, reappearing less than a second later with something in his hand. He thrust it in her direction. “I got this for you. I just totally forgot it at the photo place.”

She plucked the photograph from between his fingers and examined it as he waited. It appeared to be the standard touristy picture of the Hollywood sign. “I took this when we went to visit your parents. While you were hanging out with your cat.” he explained.

She tapped the back of the picture with her fingertips and looked up at him. “It’s a nice picture, but there was really no reason to waste your time taking it. They sell postcards just like this everywhere.”

“Huh. Yeah, look closer.” he urged, with a hint of underlying smugness.

She brought the photo closer to her face and peered at it curiously, squinting in the dim light of the TV room. It took her a few seconds, but she couldn’t hold back the sharp burst of laughter when she saw it- inside the first ‘O’ of the Hollywood sign, a small, blurry, silvery figure could be seen. On even closer inspection, the figure was waving.

“How…?” she started, glancing between him and the picture with an amused smile.

“The camera has a, like, ten second timer. So I just set it on a fence post, set the timer, and ran up to the sign. Took a few tries to get it right. This is the best one.” She snorted a laugh and brought the picture closer to look at it some more. He sank into the couch a little further, his posture tensing and his voice becoming quieter before he spoke again. “Look, I know…The other night- You were right. I didn’t really have my thoughts together. And I can see how you would think that I wanted too much from you, or to change everything around…even the things you liked the way they were.” She froze as he spoke, eyes locked on the TV screen but no longer watching it, running her fingers around the corners of the photo and turning it around in her hands. “But when I told you I’d never stand in the way of something you want- I really meant that. I still mean it.” He leaned the slightest bit closer, and reached over to grasp the corner of the photo she still held. “So all I’m saying is I just want to be there. You know, with you.”    

She inhaled slowly, actually at a loss for words for once in her life. A warm, tentative half-smile spread across her face, and she peeked up at this unapologetic disaster of a man. Who never wasted words or made empty promises. Who would make a mockery of both time and space over something he actually cared about. Who sometimes tried to hold her hand during sex, even though that’s kinda gross. He kept his eyes downcast, arms spread over the back of the couch. Wordlessly, she scooted over the few inches between them, leaning her head against his shoulder and relaxing her body against his. He let his arm fall from the back of the couch, loosely hugging her shoulder. She fiddled idly with the photo she still held in her hands, and they watched the movie together in a comfortable silence.      

A short time later, the moment was ruined as they watched the scene where Atreyu’s horse, Artax, is lost in the Swamp of Sorrows.

“Oh, _what the fuck_!” Peter exclaimed as Jubilee yelped and pulled her knees to her chest, covering her mouth with both fists.

“I thought you said this was a kid’s movie!” she squeaked, peering at him from above her clenched fists.

Peter frowned and shook his head as he watched a young boy struggle to save his drowning horse on-screen. “It is! It’s got kids on the box art and everything! There’s- there’s a fuckin’ _fluffy dragon_!”

They continued to watch in shocked, dismal silence as the horse disappeared into the swamp and drowned. “He’s…he’ll come back, though, right?” Jubilee practically whispered.

“Nope. I think he’s dead.” Peter concluded grimly. He grabbed the remote control and flicked the TV off. “That’s enough of that for now.”

Jubilee tentatively lowered her fists from her face and looked to Peter. “So…now what?”

******

Ororo sat stiffly on the edge of a chair just outside of Hank’s lab, bouncing her leg and clutching her hands in her lap as she waited for Jean and Kurt to get out. Scott was in the vicinity, but had taken to pacing compulsively, up one hall and down another.

She hadn’t even noticed when Charles approached, coming to a stop inches from her. “Ororo, would you mind coming with me for a moment? I have something I’d like to discuss.”

“Oh! Um…” Ororo picked at the fray in the knee of her ripped jeans. “I’m sorry, but could it wait until later on? I’m waiting for Jean and Kurt.”

Charles gave a reassuring smile. “This will only take a moment. Hank has informed me he’ll be a while longer with those two, at any rate.”

Not seeing any alternative, Ororo reluctantly stood and followed Charles up the hall. As she walked silently beside him, he reached over and patted her forearm. “You really shouldn’t worry. Hank has assured me their wounds are very superficial.”

Ororo managed a polite smile. “Yes, I know. I’m not worried.” She chewed her lip for a few seconds. “Who has the babies at the moment?” she asked, mainly just to break the silence.

“A pediatric nurse has come over from a nearby hospital to run some more basic exams, and is meeting with a social worker and a local detective, in order to take an accurate description so both infants can be compared to databases of missing children. Hopefully we’ll be able to figure out where they came from.”

“What happens if they are orphans?”

“Hmm. That’s a good question.”Charles paused in thought with his finger on his chin. “We do have contact with a network of foster families that are willing to take mutant infants.” Ororo nodded along as they made their way up the hall. He smiled slightly and cast a sideways glance her way. “Or we might just keep them. They’ve been very popular, so I’m told.”

Ororo managed a small laugh. “Kurt would be thrilled.”

When they arrived at Charles’ office, he directed her to sit in one of the expensive-looking upholstered mahogany chairs across from his desk. “Ororo, I wanted to update you on the situation regarding that article in the newspaper a short while ago. I have been in contact with their editorial staff.”

Ororo leaned back and held her hands up, flustered. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that. I was upset at the time, but I didn’t need you to go to any trouble.”

“Nonsense. You’re a part of this family, Ororo, and I would do the same for every one of you. Besides, if they were inclined to spew such vitriol over something as innocuous as a _sunflower_ , imagine the lies they would spread if something more serious were to happen. It can’t be tolerated.”

Ororo looked down bashfully, clutching her hands in her lap. She had never been a part of a family for as long as she could remember.

“Besides,” Charles continued, “the Editor-in-Chief turned out to be a very reasonable man. We had a great conversation, after which he agreed to look into the portfolio of the journalist who wrote the article. He called me back to inform me that he’d discovered a noted anti-mutant bias in many of this journalist’s articles- dating back years! For this reason, the journalist has been let go.”

“Oh…I don’t know what to say.” Ororo replied quietly.

Charles smiled. “You say ‘Good riddance to bad rubbish!’” he said with a laugh. Ororo smiled back and relaxed, just as Charles opened one of the drawers of his large antique wooden desk. “And I almost forgot. The Editor-in-Chief wanted me to pass this along to you. It’s a letter of apology.”

She took the sealed envelope out of Charles’ hand and looked it over. “Thank you. This is very unexpected!”

“There’s also this-” Charles continued, digging further into his drawer. He pulled out a simple wooden five-by-seven picture frame and handed it to Ororo. She inhaled slowly, pouring over the details of the picture within it. It was the picture of Kurt holding her up next to her sunflower, that had been taken on the day of her interview. “I also have a copy, here on my desk.” He gestured towards a small cluster of assorted picture frames, including one identical to the one Ororo was now holding. “The photographer did an excellent job. It’s a lovely picture of the two of you,” Ororo glanced up, beaming, before looking back down at the picture. “and a very handsome couple, too, if you don’t mind me saying.”

******  

As it turned out, Kurt and Jean were not exactly ‘free to go’ once Hank had patched them up. The detective from the local police precinct wanted to ask them both some questions about the conditions they had found the infants in, in order to better understand where the infants had come from, and who had orchestrated their kidnapping and imprisonment. For Scott, this just meant an even longer eternity spent pacing the sterile corridors around the various sections of Hank’s lab space and workshop. After rounding the same corner for possibly the ten-thousandth time, he threw himself into a folding chair that had been set next to a cabinet of obsolete science equipment and leaned his head back against the wall, eyes clenched shut.

“Hey, hon. What’s up?”

His head snapped towards the nearby doorway, only to find Jean peeking around it with an amused smile on her face. She had a small bandage just below her hairline on the left side of her forehead. She moved towards him, only to squeal in surprise when he reached out and pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his head into her shoulder. She hugged him back and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I thought I lost you.” he mumbled into her neck.

“Well, you didn’t.” she replied easily, tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “And- better yet! I’m only, like, _slightly disfigured_ , so…” she added with a smirk.

He pulled back from her, and seemed to stare into her face, not reflecting her humor at all. “I…sent you and Kurt…into a hole to die.”

“I kinda don’t know if I even _can_  die-” Jean muttered quietly, looking upwards in consideration.

“I mean, what the fuck was I thinking? Telling the two of you to teleport blind to an unknown location, with no backup and no means of communication…”

“It was a great idea, Scott. We got in there, did the hero thing, and saved the day!” Jean argued, giving his shoulder a shake. “We would never have known about the babies if you hadn’t gotten us to do that. Who knows what they would have done to them, once their operation was compromised?” Scott looked away, shaking his head. “And besides! Everything worked out perfectly fine in the end. I have, like, four tiny stitches. The worst thing that happened to Kurt all day was a tetanus shot.”

Scott, still looking away, cracked a tiny smile. Jean turned him back to her with a hand on his cheek. “This was _easy_ , Scott. The time we fought Apocalypse was, like, way more dangerous.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t love you then.”

She paused, running her fingertips affectionately across his cheek. “Hmm. You’ve never said that before.”

He turned away, embarrassed. “Yeah, well…you had to know it, though. You’re not stupid.”

She slipped her arms around his neck and kissed his temple. “I love you too. But, I mean, you knew that. You’re not stupid.”

He pulled her closer, hiking her more securely onto his lap with a grip on her thigh. She leaned into his shoulder, softly playing with his hair.  

“I just…when that explosion happened, I was so sure you were gone. Now I can’t shake the feeling that this is a dream, and I’m going to open my eyes and you won’t be here.” he said quietly, almost as if he was ashamed.

“Hmm. Well, being as I’m currently in your _lap_ , I don’t know how much more ‘here’ I can get.” she replied lightly, rubbing his shoulder. He didn’t see the humor, and shrugged slightly, gaze still downcast. She shifted in his grip, leaning against him, and rested her head against his. “Come to bed with me.” she breathed into his hair, low and sultry. “Please. You’ll feel better.” She threaded her fingers through his hair again, resting her hand on the back of his neck. “I’ll feel better.”

He took a long, deep breath. “I…I can’t. I’m sorry.” he sighed heavily. “I just can’t.”

She kept her head against his and closed her eyes, and her sigh ruffled his hair. “Okay. Sure.” She ran her hand across the back of his neck as she moved to stand up off him. He was reluctant to let go of her waist. “I think I’m just gonna go grab a shower, then maybe a nap or something. It’s been a long day.”

He pursed his lips and nodded slightly. “Yeah, no kidding.”

She slipped out of his grip and walked out of the room.

******

Ororo stood immediately off the chair she had returned to following her chat with Charles as soon as she saw Kurt exit the room he and Jean had met the detective in. He grinned and waved when he saw her, and moved quickly towards her, only slightly hobbled by his leg injury.

“Oh! I hope you weren't out here this entire time!” he called out cheerfully.

“No, not quite. I was with the Professor for a while.” she explained, and reached out to grab one of his hands as soon as he was within reach. She held it possessively to her abdomen with both of hers. “How did your meeting with the detective go?”

“I’m not getting deported!” he announced with a pleased nod.

She held his hand even harder. “As if that was ever an option.”

“But really, it went well. He thinks that as long as the babies have been reported missing by their parents, it shouldn’t be too hard to find them. Especially for the little girl, because she is clearly a mutant.” Ororo nodded along. He looked away for a second before continuing. “It might be more complicated if their parents were afraid to report them, or gave them away voluntarily, though. The detective even suggested they may have been born in captivity…”

“I’m sure it’ll all work out for them. At the very least, they are safe now.” she assured, patting his hand.

He smiled again, a fang peeking out endearingly. “Their biggest problem now is likely being spoiled rotten.”

They had started walking idly up the hall, and she gave his hand a slight tug. “Can we go to my room?”

“Sure, but we’ll have to go the long way.” he replied. “Doctor McCoy told me no teleporting.” He glanced down to his leg and looked back to her with a smirk. “He also told me to ‘take it easy’ and ‘stay off the leg’- does he think this is the first time I’ve had to work around an injury? Ha! I could walk around on my hands if it would make him happy.”

“Please don’t.”

“When I broke my elbow in the circus, I learned to tie laces with my tail.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

The walk to her room seemed slow and arduous, and was made worse by how Kurt stopped and chatted with several people he encountered along the way. She continued to cling to his hand, even though having him in her grip did almost nothing to sooth the sick, churning feeling she had felt since she first saw the explosion. When they had finally made it to her room and shut the door behind them, she immediately pressed him against the wall, grabbed his face with both hands and kissed him hard. He responded with a surprised gasp but initially kissed her back, until she slipped her tongue into his mouth and he tilted his head away with a soft, pained grunt in the same instant she recognized the metallic tang of blood.

“Huh. I must have bit my cheek when I headbutted that person.” he muttered to himself as she watched him feel around the inside of his own mouth with his tongue.

She grabbed his upper arm and pulled him further into her room, and he took a seat on the edge of her bed as she stood stiffly before him.

“Do not ever do anything like this to me, ever again.” she stated seriously, gesturing towards him with both hands.

He gave a helpless shrug. “It’s not like I did it on purpose! I generally try to avoid exploding as a rule.” he explained with a faint smirk.

“This is serious!” she countered.

He shrugged again, more dramatically this time, and rubbed his palms on his sweatpant-clad thighs. “I mean, I can see how you might have been a bit worried, but I really don’t think-”

“’ _A bit worried_ ’?!” she echoed incredulously. “When I saw that explosion, it might as well have occurred from _within my own chest_. Can you understand that?!”

An impish look crossed his face. “Ha ha. You like me.”

“Stop it.”

He sighed and his shoulders fell. “I’m sorry, Ororo, but this is just how our lives are now. Every day we place our life in God’s hands-”

“Oh, don’t give me that.”

“It’s true! And besides- today may have been a bit tense, but it was very out-of-the-ordinary for us. Overall, I know I’m safer and more secure on a daily basis than I’ve ever been. You are, too, I’d wager.” She dropped her arms to her sides and looked around her, still upset but too exhausted to argue. Kurt patted the space on the bed next to him, and she reluctantly sat down. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and rubbed her arm. “Do you know what Jean and I did after we teleported out of the bunker, when we realized we were safe?” She shook her head. “We laughed. Because we were alive and whole and our situation was ridiculous. Sometimes the room explodes. Sometimes the tightrope breaks. There’s no point in getting upset over things you can’t control.”  

She turned to face him and, finding no words, leaned in to kiss him again, softly this time. She ran her hands up and down his arms, across his chest, and downward to clutch at the fabric of a well-worn t-shirt she was almost certain wasn’t his. He kissed her back, gently holding her shoulders, until she started pulling up the hem of his shirt and reaching underneath it.

He pulled away with a quiet laugh. “Doctor McCoy _did_ tell me to ‘take it easy’…”

“Yes. That’s fine. I just-” she replied hurriedly, still clutching at his shirt. “We can work around that. I need-” She stopped herself, realizing she didn’t actually know what she needed. So many times things in her life had slipped out of her grasp without her even knowing she had to hold on. Her parents, her village, countless friends who met cruel ends on the streets of Cairo. What she needed now was to hang on to him, to dig her fingers in, to show herself he was here and safe and couldn’t be wrenched away like everything else.

He noted her pause and reached up to carefully take her face in her hands. “Of course, _Schatz_.” he said softly as he wiped away tears she didn’t know she had shed with the pad of his thumb. “Whatever you want.”

What she had wanted was the type of solace she was used to getting from a quick, passionate, desperate encounter with a close friend after a dangerous heist, when there were a few moments of relative safety but before the adrenaline had worn off. Now, with her hands pressed against his chest, she can feel the steady heave of his breathing as he waits, patient and yielding, for her to make up her mind. She realized that wouldn’t be nearly enough. With a shuddering sigh she fell forward, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I- I want you to stay with me. And not leave me.” she whispered into the cotton of his shirt. “Don’t make me do this alone.”

“Oh, is that all? That’s easy.” he answered immediately in a hushed, soothing tone as he wrapped his arms around her. “I was going to do that anyway.”

Without speaking, they moved to the center of the bed, and Kurt pulled the blanket over them both before hugging her to his chest with her head tucked under his chin. They stayed like that as minutes ticked by, well after Ororo was almost certain that Kurt had fallen asleep. She remained wide awake and- somehow, despite his warm embrace and the layers of bedding- still felt cold. She knew there was no way she could hold something so close that it couldn’t be taken from her. It just wasn’t possible.

******

There was no telling how much time had passed when the sudden sound of Kurt’s stomach growling brought him and Ororo back to reality.

“Um, excuse me.” he muttered, embarrassed. “I supposed I really haven’t eaten today. You probably haven’t either.” She gave a small shrug. He hopped out of the bed and adjusted his clothes. “I’ll go make us something. Any idea what you might like?”

She stayed motionless, partially covered by blankets. “I don’t want anything. I’m not hungry.” she answered flatly.

Kurt tilted his head quizzically. “I’m going to forget I heard that and make you something anyway. I can come get you when it’s done.”

“That’s fine.”

 

Kurt teleported from Ororo’s room to the kitchen, which startled Scott, who had been standing at the stove.

“Hey, man.” Scott called out with a slight wave once he had regained his bearings. “I thought Hank told you no teleporting?”

Kurt scoffed. “He can’t actually expect me to _walk_  everywhere. That’s ridiculous.” Scott shrugged and set a small saucepan on the stove. Kurt watched as he fetched a spoon and a can of off-brand condensed chicken-noodle soup. “Scott. Put that soup away. I’m going to make enough food for all of us.”

Scott’s arms dangled at his sides, spoon in-hand, as he stared at the can. “I kinda really want this soup, though.”

“Scott, that is bland yellow chicken water. It’s for sick people.” Kurt insisted. He opened the door of the freezer on top of the refrigerator. “I’m going to heat up this leftover chili we made.”

Scott stood aside as Kurt pulled a large pot out of a low cupboard and tipped the frozen mass of chili into it. He crossed his arms and appeared to look Kurt up and down. “So, ‘Ro was pretty quick to snatch you up to her room. I dunno what it is about danger that turns everyone into a fucking rabbit.”

Kurt glanced back at Scott, head tilted. “I don’t understand.”

“Pfft! Come on! You even got fucking _sex hair_!”

Kurt furrowed his brow and walked over to the microwave, examining his reflection in it’s door. His hair was in, at the very worst, a mild disarray. He raked it back into place with his hands. “Oh. Is that what people call that?” Scott shrugged. Kurt returned to the stove. “In any case, she was quite upset. I think she might be mad at me.”

Scott’s expression softened and he gave a long, weary sigh. He gave Kurt a quick pat on the shoulder. “Maybe just don’t give her a hard time about it? Just because she didn’t almost explode doesn’t mean it wasn’t a rough day for her.”

Kurt returned a half-smile. “Why do think I’m making supper? It’s hard to be unhappy with a full stomach.”

Scott nodded pleasantly before gesturing towards the large pot. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Hmm. Maybe some garlic bread to go with it would be nice.”

“Garlic bread doesn’t really go with chili.” Scott pointed out. “It goes with Italian food.”

Kurt frowned. “Well, what type of bread goes with chili?”

“Corn bread, probably.” Scott answered.

“Oh, that’s good! We have lots of corn and lots of bread…” Kurt pointed at the canned goods cupboard, which was still mostly cans of corn.

“That’s not how corn bread is made, like, _at all_.” Scott replied, shaking his head.

Kurt stared at Scott for several seconds. “Then how do you make-”

“Got no fucking clue, Kurt.”

Kurt’s expression straightened and he quickly turned back to the pot on the stove and fiddled with the knob for the burner. “If that’s the case, do you think you could get me the matches from the utility closet? The pilot light is out again.”

“Can do!” Scott called out as he walked into the hallway. Not seconds later, Kurt spun around when he heard Scott loudly exclaim “Oh, FUCK OFF!”

“Excuse YOU!” Jubilee’s voice replied, equally loud, and the closet door was heard to slam shut.

Scott stormed back into the kitchen, bristling. Kurt sighed heavily and set down the wooden spoon he had been using to poke the frozen block of chili. He walked to the hallway and knocked on the closet door, before turning his head away and opening it only wide enough for him to stick his hand in. “Matches.” he stated plainly, and waited.

“Here ya go, buddy.” Peter replied cheerfully as he placed the box of matches into Kurt’s hand.

“ _Danke schöne_.” Kurt responded before quickly shutting the door again.

Kurt returned to the kitchen just as Raven walked into the hallway, having apparently just witnessed the entire debacle. As she walked by the utility closet, she slammed her fist on the door. “Pants on. Kitchen. _Now_.” she demanded. She walked to the kitchen and waited, tapping her foot and glaring sternly, until Jubilee and Peter joined Kurt and Scott.

She shook her head slowly as she stared down Peter and Jubilee. “So, what the fuck?” she finally asked.

Peter’s mouth dropped open and a “Uuuuuh” sound could be heard.

Jubilee struggled to formulate a more coherent thought. “We were watching ‘ _The NeverEnding Story_ ’ and there was this part where, like, a horse, like, _drowns_  and his owner’s, like, _freaking out_ , and-”

“And, what? That got your fucking dick hard?” Scott snapped at Peter, who scowled in response.

“No! We just, I dunno, needed a distraction from the depressingness, I guess?” Peter attempted to explained.

Raven frowned, still tapping her foot and shaking her head. “Alright, so, I don’t even know how to _start_ punishing you guys, so I’ll only say this…” She paused and watched Peter and Jubilee wait anxiously. She crossed her arms and held her head higher. “When they filmed that scene for the movie, the rigging holding the horse up failed. When you watch it drown in the movie, you’re watching it drown in real life.”

Jubilee covered her mouth with both hands with a shocked gasp. Peter donned a grim, pale, wide-eyed expression. Raven rolled her eyes and looked away, redirecting her attention to the other two people in the kitchen. “Now, for the rest of you…” she started, as Scott and Kurt returned nervous glances. “Actually, Kurt, you’re good. Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Kurt gave a short nod and went back to trying to relight the pilot light. “Scott- a word?” she said next, jerking her thumb in the direction of the hallway. They walked out of the kitchen together.

Scott kept in-step with her as they made their way up the hall. “I just wanted to take you aside to tell you that I think you did a great job out there last night.” Raven said.

Scott nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Thank you, but it really doesn’t feel that way. I gave an order that almost cost us two people. And I almost killed a guy.”

Raven scoffed. “Scott, if I had a dollar every time I just _almost_  killed a guy, I’d be retired on a private island with hot Cabana boys bringing me drinks in coconuts all day.” Scott shrugged and looked at the ground. “And the order you gave was risky, yes, but was absolutely pivotal to the successful completion of the mission, well beyond our expectations. It was the right call.”

Scott gave a small, humorless laugh. “Would you still say that if I had gotten your son blown up?”

“Who cares? He looked pretty un-blown-up to me just now.” Again, Scott looked at the ground and didn’t respond. Raven sighed. “What this team all has in common, _including_  Kurt and Jean, is that they’re here voluntarily and they trust your judgement. They’re not a bunch of brainwashed soldiers. They respect your leadership.”  

Scott raked both hands through his hair with a frustrated groan. “I just- I don’t know if I can keep doing this, if I have to keep feeling the way I felt today. Knowing my decisions might cost my friends their lives is just…it’s just really hard.”

Raven nodded emphatically. “Well, yeah. It’s supposed to be hard. That’s why you’re the man for the job. You actually appreciate the weight of the decisions you make.” Scott seemed to stare back, looking somewhat confused. Raven placed a hand on his shoulder. “Look. I’ve been around the block a few times. And one thing is for sure- If I _ever_  have to listen to one more self-appointed ‘leader’ spout some weak ‘They knew the risks’ bullshit whenever one of their people gets killed or maimed, I will actually throw up.”

They stopped walking and he turned to her, awaiting elaboration. She placed a firm hand on each of his shoulders. “Scott, it’s always gonna hurt. Being in charge, making the calls, being _responsible,_ owning the consequences… You’ll get better at dealing with it with more experience, but the day it stops hurting is the day you have to stop. Because that means you don’t give a damn anymore.” Scott swallowed and nodded. Raven smiled and gave his shoulder a pat. “Somehow, I really don’t picture that happening anytime soon.”  

Scott actually managed to crack a tiny smile and the started walking up the hall again. “Oh! One more thing…” Raven said suddenly, before pulling Scott into a mostly-unused side-room. “Just a quick heads-up. You may have already noticed this, but high-risk missions make people really horny. Like, really, _really_ , unreasonably horny. You need to get comfortable with this, because this is just part of how we all live this lifestyle. Like, I could tell you some _stories_ … Mission goes well- people are gonna fuck about it. Mission goes poorly- people are gonna _really_  fuck about it. And it’s not always the ‘usual suspects’ either, like known pervs or established couples. Nope, it could be anyone. _No one_  is immune to this phenomenon. So, the best bet is to just let it run it’s course, and don’t get too worked up over the details. Sound good?”

“Uuh…yeah. Sure. Got it.”

By the time Raven and Scott made their way back to the kitchen, there was a bustle of activity between there and the nearby dining room. Kurt was finishing up with the chili, while Jubilee set the table and Peter placed some fresh rolls he had procured from God-knows-where into a basket. Jean entered the room with Ororo in tow, and started pulling various condiments out of the fridge while Ororo decided to shred cheese. Hank and Charles arrived to investigate, and Scott watched as Raven immediately left his side to go talk to Charles, while Hank walked over to Kurt. Hank apparently was asking him about his leg, as Kurt shifted on it and shrugged with a smile. Kurt then seemed to ask Hank about the infants, because they both laughed when Hank produced a baby monitor from his pocket.

As people grabbed bowls of hot chili and filtered into the dining room, Scott took as seat and looked around him. Jean sat next to him and rubbed the back of his hand with a warm smile. Snippets of a half-dozen conversations filled the room as people settled in to eat among friends.

“You can’t just put the sour cream directly _in_  the chili, that’s disgusting.”

“Try it and get your mind blown.”

“ _Segne uns, oh Herr, und diese, deine Gaben_ -”

“So, at this age, I’d expect them to sleep in at least three-hour stretches-”

“I feel like Mike was an okay guy.”

“I’d like to go to the beach before the summer’s completely over.”

“Guys- I can’t believe we’re all parents now!”

“Omigawd, gross! Shut up!”

“Yeah. Zip it.”

Scott leaned back in his chair and exhaled a breath he felt like he had been holding all day, and actually allowed himself to relax finally. Maybe everything was going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title comes from the 1981 Red Rider song. I picked this song because after the way the last chapter ended, everyone's just barely keeping it together throughout this one.  
> Sorry for the delay for this chapter. It was the longest one yet, and it's kinda a hectic time of year.  
> And I'm sorry to say, the little bit of trivia that Raven told Peter and Jubilee about The NeverEnding Story is apparently true.


	37. Rainy Day People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The X-Men finish dealing with the aftermath of their recent mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AKA Raven goes around telling people off.  
> Pretty tame chapter. Some feels, some yelling. No explicit sexual content. It starts off a few hours after the previous chapter.

“Alright, X-Men- this next mission is could be the most important mission we will ever undertake. It isn’t something we’ve trained for, but that doesn’t mean-”

“Actually, hon, I _have_  trained for this. I took a ‘Childcare Skills’ after-school course in seventh grade, and was the most sought-after babysitter in my entire middle school. My tantrum-stopping abilities were _legendary_.”

Scott stood stock-still and exhaled slowly. “That’s cool, Jean. Great.” he said flatly. Jean smiled and went back to gently bouncing Liesel in the crook of her arm while the baby played with her hair.

“So- Like I was saying,” Scott started again, pacing the room as he spoke. “this is a tough mission, and a long one, but we’re gonna _work together_  and _play to our strengths_. I’ve come up with a strategy that should optimize our chances for success while minimizing disruption to our day-to-day responsibilities. I’ve done this by dividing our mission in several developmental stages, and assigning tasks based on demonstrated skill. First up-” Scott stopped pacing in front of Kurt and Jean, who each held one of the infants. “Operation Nursery Rhyme. Kurt and Jean, you two have the most experience with very young children, so you’ll share duties for this first phase”

Kurt glanced up from feeding Christopher, with the bottle held in his tail, to mutter a quiet “ _Jawohl.”_ Jean nodded as she rocked Liesel to sleep with a practiced sway.

Scott started pacing authoritatively again. “This phase is the most labor-intensive, with a lot of diaper changes, lullabies, and three AM feedings. That’s why it’s divided between two people. It’s also the shortest phase, expected to last only another year or so. Once these kids start walking around and talking, we’re gonna move on to Operation Play-Doh. Peter, that’s you.”

“Gotcha!” Peter called out, shooting Scott finger-guns.

“There’s gonna be a pretty long transitional period between these first two phases, but by the time these kids are able to eat solid food and are out of diapers, it’s all you. A lot goes on in this time frame. Motor skills, verbal skills, learning colors and ABC’s and trying not to let them choke on things or stick stuff up their nose… I know you have a lot of experience in this department with your sister, so I’m sure you have a handle on all this.” Peter nodded along.

Scott continued. “That brings us to Operation School Yard. Ororo- here’s your time to shine. Preschool through to late elementary school. Tying shoelaces, learning to read, playground bullies, homework…This is a long phase, but I know you have a background in training and working with kids in this age group, so I’m sure you have the skills for this.”

“Consider it done.” Ororo replied, with a quick nod.

“And that brings us to the final phase- Operation Pizza Face. Jubes, this is where you come in.”

“Are we, like, married to this name?” Jubilee asked with a disgusted frown.

Scott ignored her and continued, “You take over shortly after puberty. This is a long phase with a lot of ups and downs. High school, hormones, acne, talking to your crush, trips to the mall…This is also when most mutant powers start to manifest, so that could get weird. I know you don’t like kids, so I assigned you the least ‘kid-oriented’ phase. You also have, like, twelve years to prepare yourself. I’m sure you’ll do fine.”

“And what are you gonna do while we’re all busy wiping boogers and stepping on Legos?” Jubilee pressed, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed behind her head.

“Great question. I’m going to be the backup for all stages of development, whenever someone has other duties or just needs a hand. I’m also going to be the one who determines when it’s time to move from one phase to the next. Also, I’ll be around whenever Christopher needs a hand with some ‘guy’ stuff, like teaching him to shave and stuff like that.” Scott explained, gesturing towards Jubilee towards the end.

Jubilee scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Gee, thanks, Scott. I’m pretty sure if I can shave my own ‘bikini area,’ then I can teach some pimple-faced boy how to shave three hairs off his chin.” Scott frowned, flustered. “You can handle the whole gnarly ‘crusty gym sock’ situation, though.” Jubilee added pleasantly, tossing her pig tail behind her.

Scott cleared his throat. “Moving on. We all have our assignments, but that doesn’t mean any of us are going to be working in isolation. It’s imperative that we all be very present at all ages, so the transition from one phase to the next isn’t too traumatic for these kids. Like, imagine if you came home from school and your parents got replaced? We’re trying to avoid that.”

“New day, new step-dad. I don’t recommend it.” Peter quipped, and Scott nodded to him in agreement.

“We’re all gonna change a lot of diapers. We’re all gonna be doing a lot of math homework. It takes a village, people!”

Scott paused and smiled as he watched his teammates nod and murmur enthusiastically. “So as I was saying, this is a long mission. It’s a hard one. We’re all gonna have to learn new skills and think on the fly. But, it’s possibly the most important mission we’ll ever undertake. If we pull this off, we will have produced two healthy, well-balanced, confident, and capable members of mutant society. X-Men, let’s do this!”

The brief round of cheers and chatter was interrupted by Hank knocking on the door frame and leaning into the room.    

“Hey, guys- I just got off the phone with the detective we met with this morning, and he said that they were able to identify both the babies, and that they were both kidnapped within the past month, and both sets of parents have been informed and will be coming by to get them tomorrow.” Hank explained in a single breath as he leaned awkwardly into the room. He appeared slightly confused by how everyone stared silently at him. Scott, in particular, stood with his arms at his side and his mouth open. “So, uh… go team!” Hank added, before giving a corny thumbs up making a hasty exit.

******

“Kurt, come on, man! Open up!”

It was just past midnight, and following dinner and the cut-short meeting about the babies, everyone was supposedly in bed. So when the sound of sensible knocking on Kurt’s bedroom door eventually devolved into the sound of Scott shouting and pounding on it, Peter eventually threw his own door open and yelled into the hallway.

“Holy shit, bro,” Peter called out, “if he didn’t answer you the first time, then he’s in ‘Ro’s room. Like, what the fuck are you thinking?!” He leaned shitless against the frame of his open door, which was three doors away from Kurt’s, waiting for Scott’s response.

“I mean, did Jean kick you out and now you need a hug or something?” Jubilee added, standing behind Peter with her arms crossed. She didn’t seem to care that she was only wearing a Jethro Tull t-shirt and underwear.

“Cuz, like, if that’s it, then bring it in here, dude.” Peter now stood with his arms open.

“Yeah! Get over here! We can hug it out and then you can **_**shut the fuck up**_**  and go back to bed.” Jubilee echoed.

Scott stared back silently for several seconds, until the rapid downward cascade of blue scales transformed him into Raven, who continued to stare with a serious ‘what the fuck’ expression. Jubilee jumped behind Peter with a yelp.

“You’ll forgive me if I have a hard time keeping track of where everyone sleeps, being as the lot of you are just playing one big game of musical _fucking_  mattresses.” Raven finally said, voice dripping with annoyance.

“Okay, first of all-” Peter started, folding his arms over his bare chest, “if you were pretending to be Scott in order to trick Kurt into opening the door, then that’s kinda scummy.” Jubilee nodded in agreement as Raven straightened her posture sternly, holding her head high and tapping her foot.

Jubilee leaned around Peter to add,“The other thing is that calling this ‘musical fucking mattresses’ suggests that there’s a lot of partner-swapping going on. Which there isn’t.” Peter nodded seriously.

Raven pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed heavily.

Peter tipped his head towards Jubilee and whispered, “Unless the rest of them are, like, _doing that_ , and they just aren’t inviting us…”  

“Noo…” Jubilee assured, patting his shoulder, until she paused in consideration. “You really think- no. No way. Unless…” She looked downwards before softly muttering “Those assholes.”

“Ugh.” was all Raven could manage as she spun on her heel and walked quickly up the hall.

 

Ororo’s room was a long trek away, up three flights of stairs and on the opposite side of the mansion. Raven decided to keep her own face on when she finally got there, knocking firmly on the door three times.

After a few seconds, Ororo opened the door and quickly clutched her silky robe more securely shut when she saw who it was. “Oh! What a surprise!”

“Kurt here?” Raven immediately asked.

“Oh, no! It’s quite late. Did you check his room?” Ororo responded innocently.

“I love how everyone just assumes I’m fucking stupid.” Raven shot back expressionlessly. Ororo’s mouth dropped open, but Raven continued before she could reply. “As it turns out, I already checked his room. He’s not there. I was told he was here. And I find out he pulled that typical teleporter bullshit of returning to a previously checked location and I have to go _all the way back_  to his room, I’m gonna be pissed.”

Ororo shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “He was here, but he left almost an hour ago. He said he was going to check on the babies, and when he didn’t come back, I just assumed he found something that interested him.”

“See? See how easy that was?” Raven replied snarkily. Ororo shrugged silently, looking embarrassed. Raven sighed and let her shoulders drop. “Look, I’m not mad at him, or you, or anybody. I just wanna talk to him and I feel like he avoids me sometimes.”

Ororo looked away and huffed a small laugh. “What a coincidence! He’s said the same thing about you.” Raven raised her eyebrows and nodded slowly as she turned to walk away again. “Good luck!” Ororo called after her.

 

After another lengthy walk, she was in a dark, silent sub-basement corridor, approaching the many rooms of Hank’s lab space. As she turned yet another corner, she could just barely hear a soft, hushed voice.

“ _Der Mond ist aufgegangen,_ _Die goldnen Sternlein prangen_ _-”_ She recognized the words of an old German lullaby, spoken rather than sung. He’d clearly inherited his father’s striking lack of musical ability along with the tail and the teleporting. She peeked around the corner of the next room to find him sitting in a rickety desk chair, leaning back as far as he could, clinging to the side of a nearby desk with both two-toed feet, cradling Liesel against his chest and gently patting her back with his tail. Christopher was sleeping soundly in a nearby bassinet they had loaned from the hospital.  

He quietly worked his way through the old song, occasionally smoothing out the strange tentacle-like tendrils of her ‘hair,’ peeking at her to see if her bleary, slowly-blinking orange eyes had finally closed. The dim cast-off light of a single shaded lamp in the far corner of the room highlighted the raised lines that curved across his hands, arms, and face. She recalled pressing Hank for details about them, back when it was decided that Kurt would be staying at the school and Hank had insisted on giving him a standard medical examination. Hank had refused to elaborate on them, citing doctor-patient confidentiality. He had given her weirdest look, though, and she remembered how he said ‘Why don’t you just ask him? I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.’ Well, that was two years ago, and she had never brought it up.

She must have breathed or shifted in some way, because he glanced over in her direction and gave a small wave. She waved back and moved further into the room, leaning against the door frame. “I was just dropping by to give you an update on those facility personnel we picked up.” she said, slightly quieter than normal conversational volume. Kurt perked his head up, listening. “So, I guess the guy you and Jean grabbed, Paul, _doesn’t_ remember you headbutting him, but _does_ remember his coworker trying to blow him up. So, long story short- he’s completely rolled over on his employer and is telling the Feds everything he knows. So that’s a big win.”

Kurt smiled briefly, and then frowned. “I do feel bad about smashing his face.” he muttered.

Raven scoffed. “His face is fine. I think he’s supposed to be that ugly.” Kurt shot her a look and she raised an eyebrow. “What? Didn’t he pull a gun?”     

“Well, _ja_ , but I think that’s just how Americans say hello.”

“Ha. Anyways, Charles wanted me to tell you that these guys’ parents will be picking them up from us around three o’clock tomorrow afternoon.” she added, gesturing towards the babies.

Kurt furrowed his brow. “Would it not be easier for the parents if we just delivered their children to them? Using the Blackbird?”

“See, that’s what I said.” Raven replied. “But Hank said something about the Feds working the case being in town already and wanting to talk to them. That kinda thing.” Kurt nodded along. She added, “Plus, Charles wants you and Jean there, cuz they’re gonna take pictures for the newspaper. It’ll be good PR, he says.”     

Kurt’s expression soured. “That’s what he said last time we were in the newspaper.” When Raven was undeterred, he sighed and looked away. “I’m not going to do it without checking with Ororo first.”

“What? Is she, like, the boss of you?”

“They were very mean to her. It would be rude of me to ignore that.”

“Charles said he talked with them, and they apologized.”

“I know that she had gotten a letter, but she hadn’t read it as of last time we spoke. It may not be a real apology.”

“True. The envelope could just be full of spiders.” Raven remarked sarcastically.

Kurt looked away again with a sigh, shaking his head slightly. “Sometimes, people in this country are more concerned with _appearing nice_  than they are with actually being good.” he explained carefully.

She crossed her arms and relaxed against the door frame. “Well, you’re not wrong.” When he softly shushed Liesel rather than respond, she stepped further into the room. “So, why are you even down here, anyway? I thought Hank said he was going to look after them tonight.”

“Oh! Well, I dropped by to see how they were doing, and Doctor McCoy was having trouble getting Liesel to stay asleep. He was getting a little… _frustrated_ , so I told him to go to bed.”

It was all Raven could do not to laugh out loud. She reminded herself to tease Hank about it later. “Yeah, I can picture that. See, Hank’s interest in babies is, like, strictly academic. He’s all about ‘Piaget’s child development theory’ and ‘the Moro reflex,’ but give him an _actual_  fussy baby, and he’s in over his head.” Kurt flashed a quick, fanged smile. “I mean, we should have just known you’d be better with them, since Gypsies do that whole ‘get married at seventeen and have eight kids’ thing.”

He looked away sheepishly. “Well, that isn’t quite as commonplace as it was in the past.” Raven gave a casual shrug. “Also, most people just say ‘Romani’ now.”

Fuck. “Shit. Kurt, I’m sorry.” she blurted, before looking down and muttering “God, Raven, get with the program.” under her breath.

“It’s okay.” he assured. He shifted the baby on his shoulder slightly. “Anyway, I wouldn’t even call Liesel ‘fussy.’ She just prefers to be held.” he said pleasantly, likely just to change the subject.

Raven breathed a sigh of relief despite herself and smiled back. “You were like that.” she recalled, startling herself with how readily she said it. Almost-nineteen years of distance made it so that she rarely even considered the tiny, bloody infant in her memory and the tall, polite, European X-Man-in-training to be the same person. Or that either of them could be considered her child. “You were quiet as a mouse as long as I was holding you, but as soon as I set you down, you just screamed and screamed…” He stared back, silent and still, with a somewhat bewildered expression. She frowned and her mind raced as she tried to get ahead of what he might be thinking. “But, I mean, that’s not why I-”

“It’s okay.” he echoed, in the same soft tone.  

They stared at each other, the tension in the room now palpable, for what seemed like an eternity. She took another step into the room, and stood stiffly with a hand on each elbow. “You know I never hated you,” she said suddenly. “right?”     

“Yes, Raven. It’s fine.” he replied immediately, his expression completely unreadable to her.

“No, it’s not. It can’t be. I-” she blurted, regretting it immediately, but unable to stop now. “There must have been a time when you needed me. When those people I left you with couldn’t help you- didn’t _know how_  to help you. And I wasn’t there.” It was completely contrary to what she had spent almost two decades convincing herself, but she knew it was true.  

He looked at the floor, brow furrowed, for what felt like forever. Finally he took a deep breath and his eyes flicked back up to her, his head slightly tilted. “But what difference does it make now, if it’s in the past?”   

She looked around, nodding, as the silence became deafening again. She turned back to him and sighed, scratching behind her ear. “Is she asleep, now?”

Kurt peered into the baby’s face. “Yes, I think so.”

“Can you put her down?”

He returned a questioning glance, but carefully lifted the baby off his chest and moved her to the empty bassinet next to the one where Christopher still slept peacefully. She stirred slightly when he finally let her go, but quickly settled herself without waking. Kurt sat back in the chair, looking at Raven expectantly.

“Now stand up and come here.”

“Why?” he asked in a purely curious tone even as he automatically followed her order. He stopped a couple feet short of her, looking down at her expectantly. His pajamas hung off him, she noted- undoubtedly hand-me-downs from Scott. She remembered how, when she first brought him into the mansion, Jubilee and Scott instantly glommed on to him- dragging him along on their ‘adventures,’ showing him around, making sure he had what he needed to get settled. He had that effect on people. Everyone but her, apparently.   

“Because I’m going to hug you.”

She didn’t give him time to react as the words left her mouth, she just stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him, tugging his slim frame into a firm hug. He froze for a split second before wholeheartedly returning the embrace, just as she had seen him do to almost all his friends, multiple times. It felt so strange to hold him- not _bad_ , just…bizarre. He smells slightly of lit matches- a side-effect of teleportation- and the striking familiarity of it forces a harsh wave of memories she has no intention of dealing with right now. When he was born, she had been afraid to touch him- scared that either he’d break, or she would- and she had done so only as much as was strictly necessary to get rid of him. Now, she doesn’t know if the hug is for her benefit or his- leaving her thinking that maybe she’d been going about hugs the wrong way all these years.

“I, uh…” she eventually spoke into his chest, “I’m glad you’re not dead.”

She can feel him laugh almost silently, and he pulled away, smiling warmly and patting her shoulder. “I am glad that you’re not dead, too.”   

“Hey,” she said impulsively, as silence fell over the room again. “why don’t you go back to bed, and I can look after these two?”

“Oh, _danke_ , but that’s quite alright…” he replied politely, before moving back to the desk chair. He climbed onto it, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his tail around his ankles, curling up in a way that would be profoundly uncomfortable to anyone other than him. “Jean and I already came up with a schedule when Doctor McCoy said he would watch _die Babys-”_

Raven laughed. “Oh, of course you did…” More fodder to tease Hank about…

Kurt smiled. _“_ I’ll watch them for a few more hours, and she’ll come by, and we’ll switch.” He settled into the chair, wrapping his arms around himself and resting his head on the wooden frame. “I’ll be able to sleep here, anyway.”

She nodded along and made her way back to the door. “Alright, then. Good night.” He returned a quick smile as she left the room. She made it two steps into the hall before she turned on her heel and leaned into the doorway, gripping the frame. “Oh. One more thing.” she stated as he lifted his head in attention. “You turn nineteen on November eleventh.” she said quickly, and then sped up the hall before he could say anything.

******

Not long afterwards, Raven with sitting alone at the kitchen island, staring impatiently at a cup of tea, waiting for it to steep. Normally, she preferred coffee, but the last thing she needed in the early hours of the morning was to be _more_  awake. She tugged at the string of the teabag, and registered the sound of footsteps behind her, the gait so familiar she didn’t have to turn to see who it was.

“Hey.” she stated plainly, without looking up, but when the large, blue-furred hand fell on her shoulder, the floodgates opened, and she turned to fall into a firm, all-encompassing embrace. Hank stood, gently rubbing her back, not speaking, as she gasped heavily, finally releasing the strain of past twenty-four hours. “Oh my God, what a fucking day.” she mumbled into him, and he took a step back, hands still on her shoulders.

“You’re not kidding.”

“But, I mean, they’re _fine_ , though, right?” she pressed, trying to assure herself more than anything else.

“All safe and sound.” Hank confirmed. “Medically and otherwise.”

“Christ…I just feel like they’re so much younger than we were, when-”

“They’re really not, though. Not by much.”

“They just look, like, _shorter_  or something…”

“They’re definitely not shorter.” Hank replied with amusement.

Raven slumped into her seat with a weary sigh. “Ugh, listen to me. One sketchy mission and I’m all _not sleeping_  and _hugging people_ …What happened to me? I used to be cool.”

“I still think you’re cool!”

“Case in point…”

Hank crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as Raven grinned. She pulled her teacup a little closer to her and played with the teabag string. “So, what are you even doing down here? Kurt said you were fussy and he sent you to bed.” she asked, not even hiding her smirk.

“Oh, did he, now?”

“Yup.”

“So, you two were talking, then?”

“Yeah, uh…yeah we talked. For a minute. It was…not bad.”

Hank raised his eyebrows and nodded approvingly. “That’s good.” Raven gave a small, noncommittal shrug. “And if you must know, I was looking for you.”

Raven, who had just taken an experimental sip of tea, hastily set the cup down and shoved it away, muttering “Fuck, that’s gross.” under her breath before redirecting her attention to Hank. “You were looking for me? Did you have to go through the whole place to find me? I swear to God we need to move to a smaller house, all everyone here does all day is wander around looking for each other…” she rambled happily, now that she had managed to relax.

Hank laughed quietly. “No, I knew that if you weren’t in your room, you’d be in the kitchen.” She tucked her hair behind her ear, contently waiting for him to elaborate. He glanced towards the door and then back to her, lowering his voice, “I was actually thinking you’d sleep better if you weren’t alone.”  

She picked up her teacup and held it with both hands. “Oh?”

He extended a hand towards her. “C’mon. You can finish that upstairs.”

She looked between his outstretched hand and his patient, warm expression with a raised eyebrow, as a slight smile crept across her face. She placed her hand in his and hopped off the chair, and they walked out of the kitchen together.

******  

"Hey, cool! There they are!”

“Yeah, I told Jean where to find us when they were done.”  

Scott, Jubilee, Ororo, and Peter were seated on a large checkered blanket under the shade of an old tree, enjoying an early-evening picnic as they waited for Kurt and Jean to be done handing the babies back to their parents. Jean and Kurt waved towards their friends as they exited the mansion through a glass patio door and quickly made their way into the yard.

“How’d that go?” Peter called out from behind a tuna sandwich as soon as Jean and Kurt were within earshot.

“Oh, good…” Jean responded easily as she knelt down beside Scott. “It went really well, but it was really emotional.”

“Liesel’s father was sobbing, and hugged me so hard I almost fell over.” Kurt explained, nodding seriously. He sat cross-legged between Ororo and Peter.

“It’s, like, really hard not to cry when everyone else is already crying.” Jean elaborated. “And being telepathic on top of that just makes it, like, _extra-hard_  to keep it together.”

Jubilee crunched into a stick of celery and peanut butter. “Well, it looks like your mascara didn’t run, so I’m sure you did fine.” Jean smiled back as Jubilee gestured towards her with her celery. “Plus, I watched a thing on _Sixty Minutes_ about missing people once, and apparently if they don’t find you within the first forty-eight hours, it’s usually because you’re dead. So if Hank said these kids were missing for about a month, their parents probably thought they were gone for good.”

“Christopher’s mother did say something about the relief of not having to stare into an empty crib anymore.” Kurt agreed with a grim frown.

Ororo shook her head gravely. “Goddess, those poor people. I can’t even imagine…”

“Oh!” Jean said suddenly. “The other thing is that they aren’t actually Christopher and Liesel. They are apparently Corey and Jennifer.” There was a tinge of smug disapproval in her voice.

“Who’da thunk.” Scott commented with a smirk. Jean gave him a small shove before helping herself to a ham sandwich.

 

Raven leaned on the railing of a large balcony overlooking the back yard. She was watching the ensuing picnic, drumming her fingers impatiently against the wooden beam, and did not turn when she heard approaching footsteps behind her. She took a deep breath and waited for them to move closer as she set her jaw.

“Raven-”

She spun around to deliver an open-palmed slap to the side of Erik’s face, so hard he stumbled backwards and brought his arms up protectively.

“ ** **WHAT**** -”

“Raven!”

“ ** **THE FUCK, ERIK****?!”

“Raven, please!”

“What?! Are you going to tell me you didn’t know about the secret underground lab?”

“Of course I-”

“Gonna tell me you didn’t know about the _fucking explosives?_ ”

“No!”

“-That detonated while _two of our people were in there_. Oh! And let’s not even get started on the fact that there were _two kidnapped mutant infants_ , probably waiting to get _dissected_  or some shit…”

“Raven, you have to believe-”

“Charles is fucking _pissed_. That’s why he’s not out here talking to you. Jean was one of the ones who nearly got vaporized. She’s his fucking favorite- if anything had happened to her, your brain would be chicken noodle soup right now.”

Raven finally stopped her tirade in order to catch her breath. She crossed her arms and stared back into the yard.

“Jean and who else?” Erik asked in a hushed, tentative tone.

“Kurt.” Raven answered plainly without looking back.

“...I’m so sorry.”

Raven shook her head and gave an exasperated shrug, still not looking in his direction. “Well, the worst thing I can do to you is slap you, so what difference does it make?” When Erik didn’t respond, she put her face in her hands and groaned wearily, pulling her hands back down with a long sigh. “I mean, it’s not even- like, they’re fine. They’re all there.” She gestured towards the X-Men having a picnic. “All’s well that ends well, I guess. Happy ending. Families reunited, bad guys probably going to jail… Might be a big feature in tomorrow’s newspaper. The other thing you have going for you is how much Charles likes the kind of attention this sort of thing attracts. He fucking loves a good photo-op.”

Erik relaxed slightly, now that Raven’s anger had dissipated somewhat. “And you don’t, I take it?”

“Fuck no!” She glanced sidelong at him for a split second, and then reached down to pick up a thick manila envelope that had been leaning against the railing. “Oh. Here’s your goddamned data, by the way.” Erik took the envelope out of her hand and peered into it with interest. “Hank already made, like, a ton of copies of everything. Plus we had to hand it all over to the FBI, too.”

“Hmm. I figured that.”

Raven turned around, leaning back against the railing and gripping it with both hands. “Yeah, it’s weird. Hank says the data from the computers was basically what you’d said. Just medical files and records from a seemingly random collection of mutants and people with mutant family. But then when the babies were identified, and their parents came and spoke with law enforcement, it all came together- the male baby, he looks completely normal. Hank confirmed he has the X-gene, but otherwise there’s nothing out of the ordinary about him right now. But it turns out his father is a mutant! He’s got some kinda extrasensory visual abilities- nothing too impressive, he can, like, see ultraviolet light and things like that. And guess what? The dad’s medical files were one of the ones that had been stolen.”

Raven paused and Erik nodded, hand on his chin.

“Now, the female baby- she’s obviously a mutant. But both her parents are human! But- get this! She has a higher-than-average number of mutants in her extended family- a second cousin, a maternal great-uncle, stuff like that. Hank did some more digging- this time it’s the little girl’s grandmother who’s files had been stolen, even though she’s not a mutant. Basically, Hank thinks that they’ve been taking these files to try to come up with some kind of algorithm to predict mutant births, and they had likely been planning on taking these kids _before they were even conceived_.”    

Erik shook his head ruefully. “It’s essentially what I feared, I just had no idea how far things had progressed.”

“Hmm. Well, check this out.” Raven snatched the envelope out of his hand, and sorted through it, pulling out a few stapled-together photocopied pages. “When Jubilee and Jean were collecting the computer data, Kurt grabbed a bunch of paper files that were lying around. Now, ninety-five percent of it was bullshit- receipts for paperclips and coffee filters, crap like that. But, there are a few suspicious purchases. Namely, bulk orders of Similac- a common baby formula, and ten hospital-grade incubators. And these requisitions go back several years.”  

Raven waited as Erik flipped through the pages with a grave expression. “This isn’t the first time they’ve done this.” came his grim conclusion.

Raven nodded slowly. “So now, between Hank and the FBI, they’re cross-referencing all the files we found with missing-children databases and all that, but who knows how big this is? You’d said there were some connections in Western Europe as well? I’d start working on that, if I were you.”

Erik packed the papers back into the envelope, closed it, and tucked it under his arm. “Thank you, Raven.” he said, serious and sincere.

She shrugged and turned back towards the yard. “Don’t thank me. I hardly did anything.” After a long silence, she took a deep breath. “What happened, Erik? How did this get away from you? You used to be better than this.” she asked, still overlooking the yard.

“I don’t know, Raven. I wish I- I lost contact with my source about six months ago, and nothing I learned after that suggested that it had-” He rambled, hands held up, until she turns to stare at him, unimpressed. He stopped and sighed. “I used to have better people working with me. That’s what happened.”

Raven suppressed a laugh and shook her head.

Erik dared to step closer to her, and cleared his throat before he spoke again. “I…was going through some old things the other day, and I realized that I still have one of Azazel’s daggers.” Raven’s eyes snapped wide open. “I was wondering if, knowing that Kurt inherited his father’s abilities, he might get some use out of it…”

Raven gave a sharp, short laugh and turned to lean with her back against the railing. “You’ve never actually _met_ Kurt, have you? Like, I mean, actually _spoken_ to him?”

“I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, if you did, you’d know that he’s not gonna want his daddy’s ol’ stabbin’ knife.”

Erik’s expression straightened and silence fell between them again, until Raven picked at her cuticle and added quietly, “I might take it, though. If you were looking to get rid of it.”

Erik nodded and moved to rest his palms on the railing Raven still leaned against. “Do you ever think about him?” he asked tentatively.

Raven craned her neck towards the group of young mutants still having a picnic. She gave a long, tired sigh. “Hard not to.”  

“Do you miss him?”

Raven let out another long sigh and crossed her arms. “Parts of him.”

Erik’s posture straightened and he made a barely-audible indignant scoff. He regretted it immediately when Raven noticed and glared at him, arms crossed sternly.

“What?! Don’t you look down your nose at me, like I didn’t fucking know you then.”

Erik held his hands up, trying to backtrack. “I wasn’t-”

“I mean, sure- I got around a bit, but you were ten times worse!”

“Well, there’s no need to compare notes.”

“Pfft. At least, being a woman, I know exactly how many kids I’ve accidentally created.” Raven insisted, wagging her finger at him. “You probably got a whole co-ed softball team runnin’ around out there.”

Erik slumped and raised an eyebrow. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

“Nuh-uh. They could put out one of those, you know, personal injury lawyer commercials aimed at women you’ve plowed over the years. Like, ‘Did you fuck this guy and then have an annoying superpowered baby? Because you may be entitled to compensation!’” She used her powers to imitate the exact sound of one of the most common lawyer commercial voice-overs, finishing with an impish grin.

Erik stared back, shaking his head slightly.

Raven relaxed against the railing again, and flung her arm towards the still-ongoing picnic. “I mean, you’d get along great with that bunch.” Erik followed her line of sight to the group of people sitting under a tree, chatting and eating and carrying on. As if on cue, he watched as Peter pulled Kurt into a quick-but-firm sideways hug, after which they kept their arms around each other’s shoulders for a moment. “I swear to God everyone’s either fucking or hugging.”  

Erik largely ignored her, and continued staring at the group in the distance, including both of their sons. “Peter and Kurt are good friends?” he asked, more seeking confirmation than legitimately wondering.

Raven nodded casually. “Yeah, I guess. They get along.”

Erik smiled in approval, standing straighter. “I’m glad.” Raven gave a disinterested shrug and started picking at her nails again, adjusting the colour with her powers. Erik continued to watch the young mutants in the yard. “You know, Raven, I often think of how things would be, if I had known about Peter. If Azazel hadn’t been killed. If you had kept Kurt, and we had continued working together.” Raven paused, hands frozen while picking a hangnail, and glared at Erik while he spoke, in his usual confident and authoritative manner. “They’d be as close as brothers, those two. We’d all be a sort of family.”

An image jumped into her mind, so sharp and unignorable. A silver-haired, wide-eyed pre-adolescent affectionately lugging around a sleepy blue toddler, piggy-back style. She had to squeeze her eyes shut to force it away. Erik still stared into the distance, not sparing her a glance, now standing with his hands grasped behind his back. Unseen by him, she shook her head. “Did you know that ‘if’ is the most worthless word in the English language?” she finally said, even and stern.

His head turned to her quickly and he opened his mouth but hesitated to reply.

“Goodbye, Erik.” Raven stated quickly, before hastily leaving the balcony.       

 

Jubilee was in the process of picking the grains off the crust of her multigrain ham-and-swiss sandwich when something near the mansion caught her eye.

“Oh shit!” she exclaimed suddenly, equal parts shocked and amused. “Raven just slapped _the fuck_  out of Peter’s dad!”

All eyes turned to the balcony. “I guess that solves the mystery of who Raven’s source was, for the info on yesterday’s mission.” Scott commented.

“Wasn’t much of a mystery, hon.” Jean replied, before taking a bite of a carrot stick. “I think we all just assumed that.”

“Hitting him seems unnecessary.” Kurt said with concern. “There may have been a misunderstanding of some form, but I doubt he would intentionally put us in harm’s way.”

“...Eh.” Ororo responded cautiously, face twisted in skepticism.

“I figure if Raven’s hitting him, it’s probably because he deserves it.” Peter mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich. Everyone else either shrugged or agreed.

Kurt set down his sandwich to hook one finger behind the tie he had worn for the photo-op, tugging it roughly to loosen it. “I had forgotten how uncomfortable these are.” he complained.

“Well, why didn’t you say something, dude? I woulda let you borrow my clip-on.” Peter said around a mouthful of sandwich.

Kurt laughed. “Because I wasn’t raised in a barn, Peter.”

“Yeah, you were raised in a trailer. Not much better than a barn.” Peter replied indignantly, but with a smirk.

Kurt sighed. “It wasn’t a trailer. It was a caravan.”

“Pfft. Same thing. Fancy word for trailer.”

“It’s just a house. It’s a small house on wheels.”

“That is literally exactly what a trailer is.”

Kurt gave an exasperated shrug, all while wearing a soft smile. They had had this conversation, or some variation of it, many times before.

Peter clapped his hand down on Kurt’s shoulder, gripping it firmly. “You’ll always be Euro trailer trash to me, bro.” he said affectionately.

Kurt tilted his head towards Peter, failing to look stern. “Suit yourself, Peter.”

Kurt gasped in surprise when he found himself rapidly pulled into a hug. “I love you, man. If you die on me, I’ll fucking kick your ass.” Peter muttered, unprompted and sincere.

Kurt smiled and hugged him back. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. And I love you too.”

Ororo raised her eyebrows and cast a sly smile to Jubilee, who cooed “Aw!”

Jean tapped Scott’s knee with the back of her hand. “You should get in there!” she whispered, gesturing towards his two hugging friends.

“...No.” he replied flatly.

Seconds later, an off-hand comment about the celery had lead to an in-depth but one-sided discussion by Ororo about celery-growing conditions. Jubilee glanced back up to the balcony and noted Erik now standing alone. She got Peter’s attention with a quick pat on the back.

“Hey, looks like Raven’s done smacking the shit out of your dad.”

Peter followed her gaze to the balcony and briefly frowned. “Yeah, I’ll be back in a sec.” he said, before instantly disappearing.

 

Erik turned away from the balcony and made his way towards the door that had remained open when Raven left. He had just stepped over the threshold when a loud “’Sup?” stated close to his ear startled him. He managed to refrain from jumping or swearing, and turn around to face his son.

“How are you, Peter?”

Peter shoved his hands in his pockets and gave his hair a toss. “Not bad, I guess.” Erik nodded along, and Peter tilted his head. “So, we all just watched Raven bitch-slap you. I’m guessing it’s your bad that the mission yesterday was all screwy?”

Erik sighed and held his eyes closed for a second. “Yes, that’s correct.”

“Well, fuck you, then.”

Erik sighed again. “That seems to be the theme of the day.”

Peter frowned in consideration before giving a casual shrug. “Can’t win ‘em all.” Erik smiled ever-so-slightly. Peter perked up and took his hands out of his pockets. “Oh! I wanted to tell you that I thought about what you were saying last time we spoke, and I decided to follow your advice and have a talk with Jubes.”

Erik smiled and rocked back on his heels, impressed. “Oh? I’m glad to hear it. How did it go?”

“She thought I was having a stroke.” Peter stated plainly.

Erik’s mouth dropped open. “A…stroke?”

“Yep. Was, like, gonna go get Hank and everything.” Peter explained, nodding. “Then she, like,kinda _broke up with me_ , which I honestly hadn’t considered was a possibility because we weren’t really _together_ to begin with…”

“Oh.”

“So I might not follow your advice in the future.”

“That’s understandable.”

Peter crossed his arms and looked down, poking the floor with his foot. “I mean, we did have a talk after that, and I think I might have salvaged things a bit. I dunno. It’ll probably be okay.”

Erik frowned and looked away. “I have really not been doing well at this whole ‘father’ thing, have I?”

Peter scoffed and waved him off. “You’re fine. Don’t worry about it. Like, at least you’re trying.”

Erik’s expression softened and he nodded along.

Peter paused in recollection, scratching his head. “Plus, like, one of my step-dads accidentally stepped on my gerbil once, so the bar for paternal competence in the Maximoff house was actually super low.” Peter added, before his eyes wandered, and he started humming the beat of some song in his head. Erik stared back, unable to think of a response.

Once the silence had become awkward, Erik suddenly took a deep breath and clasped his hands together. “Peter, I’m going to have to go back to Europe soon. I’m not sure how long I’ll be there, but I expect it’ll be several months at least, but likely much longer. I might be able to send a letter or postcard, but I won’t have a fixed address, and I can’t always trust the mail system…” Erik trailed off, sounding regretful.

Peter tilted his head. “Dude, you know how to use a phone?” he questioned incredulously.

Erik sighed and shook his head. “Yes, Peter, I can use a phone.”

Peter instantly appeared to have a pen in his hand, and pulled a small crumpled piece of paper- a receipt for chips and gum from a corner store- from his pocket. He hastily scrawled his phone number on it. “So this is my number. I’m hardly ever asleep so I don’t give a fuck about time zones, so you can call whenever you want.” He handed the paper to Erik and shoved his hands in his pockets. “You can even use a payphone and wear a trench coat and a dumb fucking hat like Inspector Gadget if you’re into some super-secret spy shit, I dunno.”

Erik stared at the piece of paper, held in both hands. He smiled to himself before folding it neatly and placing it in his pocket. “All right. That’s good. I’ll call.”

“Sweet.” Peter replied with a definitive nod. He reached out to give Erik a quick pat on the shoulder. “See you around!” he called out, before zipping away.

 

Back at the picnic, Peter instantly reappeared beside Jubilee as the group was discussing things they had to do before the end of the summer.  

“We gotta get to the beach at some point. I bought, like, a totally bitchin’ bikini in April and I’ve never worn it!” Jubilee complained with a huff.

“Just wear it around the house. We won’t mind.” Peter quipped, and didn’t try to avoid her playfully smacking his leg. “What? Might start a trend!”

“We could go camping. That could be fun.” Kurt offered.

“Oh, please. You just want an excuse to show off your hammock.” Ororo teased.

“I got it!” Jean interjected. “Fishing! We’ll go fishing. Fishing’s great.”

“Oh, sure!” Jubilee replied sarcastically. “All the fun of getting up early, standing around for hours, and not talking, all rolled into one activity! AND I get to smell like fish guts? Rad.” Jean rolled her eyes.

Scott, who up until this point, had mostly appeared to be staring off and tugging at the grass at the trunk of the nearby tree, finally spoke up. “Do you guys…maybe just wanna get drunk?” he asked tentatively, not really looking at anyone. “Do you wanna just get drunk and forget all this shit?”

A stillness fell over the group as people exchanged conspicuous glances. “Yes.” Jean stated definitively, resulting in a burst of smiles and excitement from everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is from the 1975 Gordon Lightfoot song of the same name. I really didn't know what to call this chapter, but because it's mainly about dealing with people who play different roles in each other's lives, I decided to go with this one. Mainly because Mr. Lightfoot is essentially a national treasure. 
> 
> Sorry for all the standing around and talking these last couple chapters. Next chapter should be a bit less heavy.


	38. I Think I'll Just Stay Here And Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone sits around and gets drunk. That's it. That's the whole chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relatively short, sweet, fluff chapter.

“Alright, guys- what we got?”

As soon as they thought they could get away with it, the X-Men gathered up all the liquor they owned and met in a currently-unused classroom, far from everyone’s living space. They shoved the desks to the side and sat in a circle in the middle of the room, as everyone took stock of the accumulated booze before them.

“So…four beers, half a bottle of peach schnapps, and about two-thirds a bottle of red wine?” Scott scratched his head as he looked at the collection of bottles.

“I brought some coffee mugs, so if we get caught, people will think we’re just drinking coffee.” Ororo offered, holding up several plain ceramic mugs. Jean raised a skeptical eyebrow while Jubilee reached for one of the mugs gleefully.

“This isn’t gonna get us all drunk, guys.” Scott concluded. “If we can get some cash together, Peter, do you mind doing a liquor store run for us?”

“Sure thing, dude.”

Once everyone had piled up a collection of small bills, Peter grabbed it and ran out of the room He was back minutes later with a twelve-pack of domestic beer, some mix, and a very large, very cheap bottle of tequila.

A small burst of cheering echoed through the room, and Scott clapped his hands together, rubbing them and nodding approvingly. “That should do it.”

 

 

“Okay, Kurt, so to do a tequila shot, you first lick the salt off your hand, do the shot, and then bite the lemon slice. Got it?” Jean explained carefully while Jubilee distributed lemon pieces and poured tequila into three coffee mugs. Kurt nodded along. “So, Jubes and I will go first.”

Kurt watched as Jubilee and Jean shook salt onto the back of their hands, licked it off, downed the shot of tequila in one motion, and then bit the lemon, all in near-perfect unison.

Jubilee winced over the burn of cheap tequila before snapping her fingers and pointing to Kurt. “Your turn!”

They watched with fascination as Kurt shook salt onto his hand, ate the entire lemon slice -peel and all, took the tequila shot, and then flung the salt on his hand over his left shoulder.

“That’s not bad.” he muttered approvingly.

Jean raised her eyebrows and stared towards Jubilee, who gave her hair a flip. “Whatever gets you drunk, I guess!”

“Guys, can we, like, play a game or something? Like ‘Truth or Dare’?” Scott called out, after having sat and listened to one of Peter’s ‘that time I fucked up’ stories for far too long.

“What is that?” Ororo asked, as Kurt leaned towards Scott curiously.

“Oh! Right!” Scott settled himself to explain while everyone else re-arranged themselves into a circle. “So, ‘Truth or Dare’ is a game where we take turns asking people ‘Truth or dare?” and if they pick truth, they have to answer any question you ask, and if they pick dare, they have to do anything you say. If they refuse, they have to finish their drink.”

“Sounds simple.” Ororo nodded.

“Oh, it is.” Scott agreed. “So, just to demonstrate- Kurt, you go first. Ask Jubes truth or dare.”

“Alright…” Kurt picked at his beer label. “Truth or dare, Jubilation?”

She took a quick swig of the peach schnapps bottle. “Truth!”

“Hmm…” He tapped his nails on the side of the bottle as he thought up the perfect question. “What is it like having ten fingers?”

Jubilee set down the schnapps bottle to thoroughly examine both her hands, wiggling her fingers and inspecting her glittery purple nail polish. “It’s pretty fuckin’ rad.” Kurt nodded politely, with his finger curled at his chin.

“Um, okay…” Scott poured some orange juice and tequila into his mug. “So, normally, because this is a drinking game, we tend to stick to more… _risque_  questions and dares. Things people wouldn’t wanna say or do if they weren’t already kinda buzzed.” Kurt shrugged and took a drink of his beer.

“My turn! My turn!” Jubilee waved her arm and wiggled excitedly. Once she had everyone’s attention, she motioned across the circle with her schnapps bottle in-hand. “Scott! Truth or dare!”

“Truth.”

“How old were you when you lost your virginity?”

“Uh, like a little over eighteen?”

Jubilee reacted with disinterest while Jean tilted her head as she performed a series of mental calculations. “Wait. THAT was your first time?!”

“Yeah, Jean. You knew that.” Scott replied incredulously.

“No I didn’t!” Jean responded immediately. Jubilee took a slow drink and appreciated the chaos she had caused. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s super fucking embarrassing!” Scott gestured frantically, his drink sloshing in his cup. “Plus, don’t you read minds?”

“Scanning a guy’s head for a mental run-down of all his previous sexual experience isn’t exactly a healthy way to proceed in a relationship.”

“Okay, so, if I could read minds, I would definitely do that, just to see if all the other people they’ve banged looked disappointed.” Peter added quietly. Ororo and Jubilee glanced at each other and nodded in agreement.

Scott ignored Peter entirely and let his hands flop into his lap in exasperation. “I just don’t see what difference it makes now.”

“Well, fuck, I dunno-” Jean started to argue defensively, “If I had known, I might have worn a better bra!”

“Oooh,” Ororo cooed, rocking backwards and nodding slowly in approval. “the green one.”

Jubilee snapped her fingers and pointed towards Ororo in enthusiastic agreement. Kurt and Peter looked at each other in confusion. Jubilee leaned a little closer to them and explained, “So, Jean has this green bra that-” Jubilee moved her hands to her chest, splaying her fingers as if she were holding two large globes. “gives her these, like, _perfect_  ‘Victoria’s Secret’ titties.” Ororo nodded in solemn agreement. Kurt’s eyes popped wider and Peter grinned impishly. Jean simply tipped her hand towards the rest of the group while continuing to look at Scott.   

“Nobody gives a fuck about a bra that ends up on the floor, Jean.” Scott replied in frustration, before taking a huge gulp of his drink.

Jean tossed her hair defiantly and opened her mouth to argue, but as she did, a loud “What _the fuck_  is going on in here?” was heard from the doorway. All eyes turned to see Raven glowering at them from the door, arms crossed and foot tapping angrily. Behind her, Hank peered curiously over her head.

A sudden flurry of activity occurred as almost everyone scrambled to hide the evidence. Ororo smiled and raised her mug towards Raven and Hank. “We were just chatting and having some coffee!”

Raven stared back, stone-faced. “Ororo, I know you think you’re slick, but your tongue is actually purple right now.” Ororo frowned and turned away.  

Raven next tipped her head towards Kurt, who -possibly emboldened by years of actually being legal drinking age in his homeland- sat undisturbed with his beer bottle dangling from between his two fingers. “You can’t have that. You’re not twenty-one!”

Kurt gave a small, casual shrug. “It’s a free country.”

Jubilee let her mouth hang open while Peter did a corny sitcom-style “Oooh!” Jean leaned towards Kurt and grabbed his shoulders from behind, looking up at Raven. “Now you have to let him keep it! He said the magic words!”

Raven looked upwards, clenching her fists in frustration, when Hank placed a large furry hand on her shoulder. “Raven? Why don’t you go on upstairs, and let me deal with this? You’ve had a long day.”

Her expression softened and her posture relaxed. “Really? You said you hate yelling at them.”

“Yes, really. You go ahead. Consider it handled.” Hank elaborated with an easy smile.

She narrowed her eyes at him skeptically for a second, before shrugging and continuing up the hall. Hank stood in the doorway, watching her walk away for an extended period of time, until she ostensibly turned a corner and he finally entered the room. He walked up the circle of wary young mutants and sat down cross legged between Peter and Scott.

“So, uh, what are we drinking, guys?” he said, breaking the silence.

The rest of the circle exchanged uneasy glances until Peter spoke up. “Um, we got some beers - German and domestic, some red wine, some peach schnapps, some mix…” He paused to reach behind himself and shove the bottle of cheap tequila into the center of the circle. “and this tequila.”

Hank cringed and shook his head disapprovingly. “Back in a sec.” he said before standing back up and making a hasty exit.

Once he was out of earshot, Jubilee whispered “What the fuck?” while looking around at her friends.

“This feels like it may be a trap.” Ororo concluded.

Scott screwed his face up in consideration. “Ehh…I dunno. I think he might think this is his chance to hang out with the cool kids.” Kurt nodded along.

“Newsflash, bro. We ain’t the cool kids.” Peter replied after retrieving the peach schnapps from Jubilee.

Jean held her finger to her chin. “Hmm. True.” She took a second to swirl her drink in her mug thoughtfully before taking a sip. “But we _are_  the coolest kids he knows.”

Minutes later, Hank returned, having now changed into his ‘normal looking’ form.

“Aw, man!” Peter whined. “You made ‘cool guy’ Hank go away, and now you’re gonna fuckin’ _narc_  on us!”

Hank pulled back in confusion. “This isn’t a ‘Jekyll-and-Hyde’ situation. I’m always the same guy.” He went back to his original place in the circle and sat back down. “I just can’t get inebriated when I’m blue. I’m not sure why. Plus, I wanted to grab this-” He pulled a quart of vodka- _actually decent_ vodka- from behind his back and set it in the center of the ground.

The group erupted into boisterous cheers, and Peter gave Hank a friendly slap on the back as Ororo handed him a mug.

“So we are playing ‘Truth or Dare,’” Ororo explained as Hank started fixing himself a drink. “It’s Scott’s turn to choose.”

“Cool. Let’s see here…” Scott appeared to scan the people around him. “Kurt! Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

“Show us something that you can do with your tail that would make any other man jealous.” Scott asked confidently, before smugly crossing his arms.

Kurt begrudgingly stood, muttering “Hmm, this is awkward…” to himself as he walked towards the teacher’s desk. Jubilee gave Ororo a playful shove, and Ororo laughed and swatted her away. He rummaged through the drawers to pull out random items, including a tape dispenser, two pairs of scissors, a large novelty eraser, and a ‘World’s Best Grandma’ mug. He pulled the wooden chair away from the desk, set his beer down near the edge of the desk and- clutching the items in his arms, climbed into the back of the chair and tilted it, balancing it on two legs. He then proceeded to deftly juggle the items he held for some time, until he used his tail to fetch the beer bottle on the desk. He switched to juggling with one hand and his tail while he chugged the rest of the beer, before incorporating the empty bottle into the blur of items being juggled. Once he switched to juggling things with both hands and his tail, it became impossible to keep track of what was flying where. Finally, he carefully snatched the items out of the air with his tail and stacked them neatly on the desk, hopped off the chair, and instantly moved into a deep showman’s bow.

“I’ll admit it. I’m jealous.” Hank confirmed over the sound of enthusiastic cheers and clapping. Kurt shrugged and retook his seat.

“What about that was ‘awkward’?” Scott demanded.

Kurt frowned. “It was very sloppy. I have not practiced my juggling in a long time.”

Ororo patted his shoulder. “It’s your turn!”

“Oh! Um…” Kurt looked upwards as he thought. “Doctor McCoy! Truth or dare?”

“Truth!”

Kurt clasped his hands together and tilted his head. “What are ‘cooties’? Are they head lice, or are they just germs?”

“Um…well…” Hank stammered, clearly not expecting his medical expertise to be required in a drinking game. “’Cooties’ aren’t really anything. It’s just a made-up word with no real meaning.”

“Okay. _Danke_.”

“If you have concerns about either, just make sure to wash your hands frequently and don’t borrow anyone else’s hat or hair accessories.”  

Kurt nodded, adding “That’s helpful.”

“Um…You go now, Hank.” Jean muttered over the sudden quiet.

Hank sat up straighter. “Jubilee?”

Jubilee crossed her arms confidently, apparently having anticipated that she’d be selected.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare.” she answered immediately, raising an eyebrow.

Hank took a sip of his drink and set his cup down. “I dare you to stop screwing with my radio!”

“I’ll stop screwing with it if you stop playing that fucking ‘easy listening’ old guy garbage!” Jubilee shot back. Hank pulled back, his face screwed up in bewilderment. Jubilee was more than happy to elaborate. “Like, we’re trying to practice and you got ‘Desperado’ by the fucking _Eagles_  blastin’, and we’re just supposed to _ignore that_? I can’t work under those conditions! You’re lucky all I do is try to change the station!”

“You don’t change the station! You break it with your powers!” Hank argued.

“Well, you keep _fixing it_ , so obviously I don’t break it _hard enough_!” she replied smugly.

Hank picked his cup back up, motioning it towards Jubilee. “Either stop breaking it or finish your drink.”

Jubilee tipped her head back in a frustrated groan. “Ugh. Fine. I’ll try changing the station by turning the knobs like a regular boring person. Happy?” Hank nodded once. She resettled herself and turned to Jean. “Truth or dare, Jean!”

“Dare.” Jean answered without hesitation.

Jubilee rubbed her hands together in anticipation. “I dare you to lend me your electric blue mini-dress!”

“Nope!” Jean exclaimed loudly and immediately.

“Aw, come on!”

“Yep, that’s what I’m worried about.”

“Huh?”

“Jubes, a wise woman once told me ‘I’m not going to lend you clothes I know you’re gonna go have sex in.’”

Jubilee clutched her hands together. “Please! Please please please!”

Jean picked up her cup and drained her drink, slamming it back down on the floor. “No. Hard pass.”

Jubilee flung herself backwards, lying on the floor with an exasperated, dramatic groan. Jean gave a quick, disinterested shrug and turned to Ororo. “Truth or dare, ‘Ro?”

Ororo paused to think. “Truth.”

“What’s the most expensive thing you ever pickpocketed?”

“Hmm…” Ororo tapped her chin. “That’s easy. I once was able to remove a man’s gold Rolex watch and gold ruby pinky ring at the same time without him noticing.”

Jean frowned in disgust. “Serves him right. That sounds super tacky.”

“Ugh, yes. It was very unattractive.” She sat up straighter and turned to Peter. “Peter. Truth or dare?”

“Dare!”

Ororo grinned and set her hands in her lap. “I dare you to eat that disgusting creature at the bottom of the tequila bottle!”

Peter picked up the tequila bottle and turned it around, watching the gross beige grub float around the bottom.

“That’s actually a type of moth larva.” Hank added helpfully.

Peter set the bottle back down with some force and started unscrewing the cap. “Fuck it. I’ll do it!”

“Let me help you with that.” Jean offered, telekinetically raising the larva out of the bottle. Scott cringed and turned away, while Jubilee covered her face and repeated “Ew ew ew ew!”

Peter snatched the worm out of the air, briefly examined it, and then popped it in his mouth. Everyone waited with baited breath as he chewed slowly, looking around the room in consideration as he did so. Jubilee squealed in disgust and turned away entirely. Finally, he swallowed hard. “That’s not too bad.” he concluded. “Like, they could sell jars of it. Kinda like olives or pickled eggs.” Jubilee made a croaking sound as she actually gagged.

“Sweet- my turn! Um…” Peter drummed his hands on his legs as he thought. “Kurt! Truth or dare!”

“Hmm. Truth?”

Peter peered at Kurt, tilting his head. “Could you suck your own dick?”

Kurt gasped, eyes wide and mouth gaping in shock. “What sort of question is that!?”

“Thank God he didn’t say ‘dare.’” Scott whispered to Jean, who nodded seriously.

Peter was completely undisturbed. “A simple question. With a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answer.”

Kurt’s tail lashed wildly in agitation as he struggled to come up with a response. His ears were already purple. “Well, obviously any man could do _that_ , but one really isn’t supposed to-”

“Wait-” Scott interjected, holding his hands up. “You think every guy is capable of sucking his own dick, but just _doesn’t_  for… _personal reasons_?”

Kurt slumped, glaring at Scott incredulously and vaguely gesturing towards his groin. “It’s right there, Scott. It’s not rocket science.”

“Dude, if I _could_ , then that’s all I would do. No job, no friends, just me and my cock in an alleyway.” Peter stated plainly.

“I mean, he’s right. If we could all do that, society would collapse.” Scott argued.

“Pfft. The male part of society, maybe.” Ororo scoffed.

“That may be true for you, Peter, but you are older than us. Have you considered that you have arthritis?” Kurt stammered, sounding both desperate and skeptical.

“I’m pretty sure ‘not being able to suck your own dick’ is not a sign of arthritis.” Peter replied wearily.

“How would you know? Have you spoken to your doctor about it?”

“Bro, _my_  doctor is _your_  doctor, and he’s sitting right there.” Peter jerked his thumb towards Hank.  

“I don’t want to be a part of this conversation at all.” Hank muttered into his mug as he took a large gulp.

Kurt crossed his arms and stared at Peter, gesturing towards Hank. Peter sighed and closed his eyes. “Hank, is not being able to suck your own dick a sign of arthritis?”

“Absolutely not.” Hank answered immediately, annoyed at having to dignify that question with a response.

“Ha!” Peter raised both arms victoriously. “Take THAT, Wagner! Now, I just need to hear you say say to the group that you could _totally_  suck your own dick, you just don’t feel like it.”

Kurt glared angrily at Peter, with his arms crossed stiffly and his tail twitching behind him. He look a long breath before swiftly grabbing his beer, which was almost completely full, and downing it. Everyone stared, as it appeared that he hadn’t drank the beverage so much as just poured it directly down his throat.

Peter whistled, impressed. “Now that I know you can apparently _unhinge your fucking jaw_ , I have even more questions.”

Kurt responded by snatching Peter’s own drink out of his hand by reaching behind him with his tail, and drinking it in much the same way. He spun the empty cup towards Peter with a flick of his tail, sternly muttering “That’s enough from you.”   

Jubilee burst into giggles. “I love Drunk Kurt.”

“So, uh…maybe we should play a different game now?” Scott suggested, which everyone agreed was for the best.

******

After finding a jar of colored plastic bingo markers in the teacher’s desk drawer, the group decided to switch to playing ‘Never Have I Ever.” After several rounds, everyone was getting increasingly inebriated and the questions became bolder and more outlandish.

“Uuhh…Never have I ever…thrown up from drinking too much?” Jubilee mumbled while peering into her empty glass.

“Not at this rate, you’re not!” Peter replied with a grin, leaning over to empty the last of the schnapps into her cup while most of the group groaned and tossed colored plastic circles into a paper cup in the middle of the circle.

“In my defense, it was only once and I did not realize it was liquor I was drinking until _after_ I threw up.” Ororo pointed out. Kurt patted her shoulder.

Jean donned an evil smirk once she realized it was now her turn. “Never have I ever…lost my virginity in the back of a pickup truck.”

Most of the group exchanged confused glances until Jubilee tossed her bingo marker into the cup with unnecessary force, while simultaneously stating “ _Fuck you_ , Jean.”

All eyes were turned to Jean and Jubilee, wondering if something was going to become of the tense stare-off they were now engaged in, until there was a small, familiar ‘plink’ sound as another marker was tossed in the cup, and everyone turned to see Hank shrugging at the sudden attention.

“Whoa!” Peter called out over the sudden ruckus, while Jubilee pointed at Hank across the circle, laughing.

“See! It’s totally normal! Not trashy at all!” she said gleefully.

Hank lit up, seemingly happy to finally be included. “Exactly! It’s downright classy! I mean- throw down a sleeping bag…”

“Ya got a bunch of nature sounds…it’s all romantic under the stars and stuff…” Jubilee added enthusiastically.

Hank nodded along. “Or in broad daylight during a music festival. Also romantic.”

Jean struggled to suppress a laugh. “Merle Travis on the radio…”

Jubilee cast Jean a smug side-glance. “Whatever, Jean. You’re jealous.”

“I’m whatever the opposite of jealous is.”

Peter slapped his hands down on his knees. “Well, I’m jealous! I’d be down to fuck in a truck.”

“Maybe you could rent one for that purpose?” Ororo suggested impishly.

“Pfft. It doesn’t even have to be your truck. You just gotta find one and hop in the back.”

“So romantic…” Ororo echoed sarcastically over Peter’s casual shrug.

“Hank, you go next. I can’t think of one yet.” Scott mumbled to Hank once the hubbub had died down.

“Oh! Never have I ever…been arrested?” Hank blurted after brief consideration.

“Haha! Oh, shit- I gotta put all these markers in!” Peter laughed, shoving his remaining pile of markers towards the center of the circle.

Ororo deftly tossed a marker in the cup. “But I never spent a day in prison!”

Kurt opened another beer with both hands while flicking a marker in the cup. “Ha! Wow…” Jean remarked. “What were you arrested for? Praying too hard?”

“Probably helping too many old ladies cross the street…” Scott added.

“Who would know? We were touring in the _Ostzone._  ” Kurt explained. “I was waiting for my sister outside a shop.” He smiled slightly and sorted through his pile of markers. “They _really_  didn’t like that I had no identification, though…I sat handcuffed in the back of a unmarked police car for a few hours, but then just decided to teleport home. My mother wanted me home for dinner, and I was more afraid of her than I was of them.”

“That was probably smart.” Jean commented.

“Oh!” Kurt’s head snapped up, and he looked at Hank seriously. “If we are ever travelling internationally, there might still be a warrant for my arrest inEisenhüttenstadt.”

Hank paused for a beat and blinked. “Uh, sure. We’ll keep that in mind.” He elbowed Scott. “Your turn.”

“Oh, shit…um…” Scott tapped a bingo marker on the floor as he thought. “Never have I ever went skinny dipping.”

The group erupted into a series of frustrated groans and bewildered insults as almost everyone threw a marker into the cup. Only Kurt and Ororo held on to their markers, looking at each other and Scott in confusion.

Jean had crossed her arms and was shaking her head in disapproval at Scott when Jubilee leaned towards Ororo and Kurt, whispering “So, ‘skinny dipping’ is just another word for swimming with no clothes on…”

Ororo scoffed and tossed her marker into the cup, as Kurt flicked his in with his tail as he looked at Scott with genuine confusion.

“Oh, come on! Seriously, guys?” Scott complained, as he was now the center of attention. He gestured towards Kurt with both hands. “Even you? You don’t even like wearing short sleeves!”

“I didn’t even own swimming trunks until I moved here!” Kurt explained. “We all just jumped in the river and didn’t stare at each other because it’s rude.”

“This is ridiculous. We can’t allow this to continue.” Peter announced authoritatively as he instantly removed his t-shirt and clutched it in his fist. “We’re all going skinny dipping right now!”

Jubilee squealed in glee and clapped as Scott held his hands up in protest. “No, Peter!”

“Shit yeah, we are! Kurt, get his legs. Jean, grab his arms.”

“Fuck off!”

“C’mon, dude. You don’t have to worry about shrinkage or whatever. Me and Kurt and Hank are gonna be there, too, and the cold’s gonna effect us all equally.”

“Put your shirt back on! We’re not doing that!” Scott yelled. He was starting to blush.

“What’s the big deal? Strip down, jump in the duck pond, splash around a bit, run back to the house. No harm, no foul.” Peter explained with a casual hair toss.

“I feel it’s my duty to inform you all that the duck pond is less than three feet deep and is fetid with algae and duck feces.” Hank offered academically.

“Oh. Fuck.” Peter’s shoulders slumped briefly. He quickly perked back up. “Just Summers, then, I guess.” he mumbled before leaping across the circle and drunkenly tackling Scott.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Jubilee chanted, pounding her fists on her knees.

“Fuckin’ _seriously?_ ” Jean groaned, shaking her head.     

Everyone else watched Scott and Peter’s prolonged, uncoordinated impromptu wrestling match devolve from Peter trying to get Scott’s shirt off to the two of them just fumbling around and ineffectually slapping at each other.

Unprompted, Kurt gave a determined nod and set down his drink. “I should probably intervene.”

“Good idea!” Ororo confirmed, patting his knee. He teleported the short distance from where he was sitting to where the other boys were fighting, but the alcohol must have impaired his spacial abilities and he stumbled on the landing and fell to the floor. He knee-walked over to his friends and grabbed Peter’s shoulder, only for Scott to grasp his collar and pull him to the floor with them.

“Fuck, yeah!” Jubilee cried. “Take it _off_!”   

“They’re not stripping, Jubes. They’re fighting.” Jean explained with a weary sigh.

“They’re _strip-fighting_ , Jean. Keep up.”

Jean brought her hand to her forehead with a light smack when Peter got Scott in a headlock and pulled Scott’s shirt up over his head and arms, effectively trapping him. Kurt awkwardly tried to help Scott fix himself while Jubilee cheered and threw a couple dollar bills at them.

“Shouldn’t we try to do something?” Ororo asked Hank in a hushed tone.

Hank scoffed. “They’re really at no risk of hurting each other.”

Ororo leaned closer and whispered, “Yes, but it’s embarrassing.”

Just then, Peter reeled back, screaming and clutching his eye. “Kurt! You dick!”

“Ah! I’m sorry!” Kurt cried frantically, reaching for Peter’s arms.

“What the hell happened?” Jean demanded.

“He jabbed me in the eye with his tail!” Peter whined, still clutching his eye.

“It was an accident!” Kurt called out desperately.

“Ugh…let me see…” Hank groaned, motioning Peter towards him. He pulled Peter’s wrist away from his face and peered into Peter’s eye.

“Is it, like… _gone_?” Peter all-but-whispered in a weak, wavering voice.

“It’s slightly irritated.” Hank stated flatly.

“Sit back down, you big baby.”Jubilee ordered in a huff, disappointed that the ‘show’ was over.

Peter obediently did so.

“And put your fucking shirt back on.” she added. He immediately did that as well.

Scott fixed his shirt and sat back down beside Jean, who was shooting him serious side-eye with her arms crossed. Ororo struggled to console a still-very-upset Kurt. Scott reached for the tequila and tossed the cap over his shoulder before taking a big swig.

“Well, guys…It ain’t gonna drink itself.”

 

 

The next stretch of time was devoted to idle chatting and heavy drinking. Jean sat with her legs sprawled out before her, leaning back on both palms. Ororo, who was resting her head in Kurt’s lap and appeared to be struggling to stay awake, shoved Hank’s vodka bottle in her direction. Jean took a quick drink, and passed the bottle along to Scott. She sat up and leaned forward, resting her elbow on her knee. She waved towards Jubilee and Peter, who were engaged in some private, whispered conversation.   

“So, like, what is even the _deal_  here?” Jean slurred.

“Deal? Why’s there gotta be a deal?” Jubilee asked, both annoyed and confused.

“Well, like, you guys were _not together_ , then _not-not-together_ , and now you’re totally like, _together_ , but is it in a _together_  way or in a _not-together_  way?”  

Jubilee stared back in blank, bleary-eyed confusion.

“You two should settle this by going on a date.” Ororo suggested with a smirk.

“’Ro, there’s other things that start with the letter D that I’d much rather get on…” Jubilee responded suggestively, and they managed an awkward, drunken high-five.

“Now, hold up-” Peter said, raising a finger. “We don’t have to settle for the lame-ass dates that these dweebs go on. I could take you _literally anywhere_. Name it.”

Jubilee looked downward in consideration, tapping her chin.

“Cape Canaveral!” Hank called out, raising his vodka bottle.

“The _Maasai Mara_ is _breathtaking_ this time of year…” Ororo offered.

“Niagra Falls is supposed to be the most romantic place on Earth.” Scott chimed in.

Jubilee looked at the three of them and slumped in confusion.

“I had thought you had your heart set on the lasagna restaurant?” Kurt asked.   

Peter slammed his fist into his palm with excitement. “Oh, shit yeah! I forgot about that!” He quickly slung his arm around Jubilee’s shoulders. “What do you say, babe? Lasagna is for lovers.”

She raised her eyebrow and pointed at him. “Don’t call me ‘babe.’”

“You didn’t complain last night.”

“Suck my dick, Peter.”

Peter moved to instantly clutch both her hands in both of his. “Baby, if you had one, I _would_.”

Jean nodded as she observed the scene before her. “That’s so romantic.” she said quietly, with emotion creeping into her voice. Scott furrowed his brow and shook his head.

 

 

Several drinks later, they were still rambling away, asking each other questions like “Which one of ‘ _The A-Team_ ’ is the hottest?” and “Is it okay to bang your friend’s grandmother if your friend’s grandmother was Blanche from ‘ _The Golden Girls_ ’?”

Ororo suddenly sat up and pointed to Scott. “Here’s one for you! Who would you want to be trapped on a desert island with?”

Scott scowled and set down his beer. “Ugh, I hate this ‘desert island’ scenario. Like, how do I pick a person when it’s not clear what I want them for? Like, are they there to keep me company? Am I supposed to want to fuck them? Are they gonna help me escape? Or am I just keeping them around in case I need to resort to cannibalism later? There’s no one person who can satisfy all those criteria.”

Ororo pursed her lips and nodded silently. “Um…I was going to pick Nichelle Nichols, but I actually like your answer better.”

“Ooh! Here’s one!” Jubilee held up the nearly-empty bottle of tequila to get everyone’s attention. “This one’s for you, Peter!”

He turned towards her, giving her his undivided, if not very inebriated, attention.

She grinned impishly and held out her hands. “If you… _had_  to pick a guy-”

“Kurt.” Peter blurted instantly.

“No, like- it can be ANY guy.” Jubilee elaborated.

“Yeah, I know.” Peter responded with a casual shrug.

“Living or dead.” Jean added, as Jubilee gestured towards her in confirmation.

“Oh, I’d definitely prefer a living guy.” Peter said with a brief frown.

“She means anyone at all, from all of history.” Ororo explained.

“It could be t-shirt-era Marlon Brando, or pre-salad-dressing Paul Newman.” Hank pointed out.

“It could be some kinda sports hero.” Jean offered. “Like Babe Ruth.”

Scott leaned close to Jean and whispered. “Jean, have you ever _seen_  Babe Ruth?”

“No, all I know is that he was good at sports.”

“He was amazing at sports.” Scott replied. “But, trust me. He’s not gonna pick Babe Ruth.”

“Why not?”

“He was kinda ugly.”

“Ugh. Men are so shallow.”

Peter glanced at the floor, nodding and weighing his options. “Nah, I’ll stick with the first thing I said.”

“Okay, cool. Wanna elaborate?” Jubilee pressed. “Just curious, cuz I woulda put my money on Neil Peart.”

Peter rubbed his chin sagely. “Also a great choice.” Jubilee nodded in acknowledgement. “But I’m just thinking, like…” He gestured vaguely in Kurt’s direction. “I know he’s got _the goods_ , and…I just think he’d be, like, really gentle and attentive and stuff.”

“I mean, you’re completely right.” Ororo confirmed, and Peter tipped his hand in her direction.

“Wait…” Kurt, who had been picking the label off an empty beer bottle and not really paying attention, turned to Peter and tilted his head. “’Pick a guy’… for _what_?”   

Peter grinned and opened his mouth, just as Jean swiftly leaned forward and pointed in his face. “Not a word! Not a _goddamned_ word!” Peter just shrugged and reached for another beer.

Once everyone had resettled themselves, Scott took a large drink of beer and turned towards Hank. “Okay, so this one’s for you, Hank.” Hank, wavering slightly, perked up. “So, this is something that was… _touched on_ …in our Sex Ed class, but since we’re all friends now, I was hoping you’d elaborate.”

Hank smiled when Scott mentioned the word ‘friend,’ and nodded along eagerly.

“So, does changing from how you are now to your ‘Beast’ form have an effect, um…junk-wise?” Scott asked delicately. Everyone else in the group set their drinks down and paid rapt attention.

Hank, who had been taking a drink from his cup, sputtered slightly. He quickly regained his composure and smiled smugly. “Oh, yeah. Both in length and girth, but especially with girth.”

“NICE.” Scott stated emphatically, while Peter cheered and punched the air, yelling “I knew it!”

“Wait! Wait wait wait.” Jean said suddenly, holding both hands up. “Just from, like, a woman’s perspective…I know guys are all about ‘bigger is better,’ but, keeping in mind that it’s not exactly a bottomless pit down there-” Scott tilted his head in confusion while Hank gave Jean his undivided attention. “Are we talking, like, a generous-but-manageable situation, or are we talking a giant horrifying murder-dick?”

Hank leaned back and crossed his arms, even more smug. “I’m not one to brag, but I’ve never gotten any complaints.”

Jean nodded. “Hmm. Alright. Interesting.” Scott laughed and the other girls exchanged conspicuous glances.

Peter reached out and tapped Kurt’s knee. “Hey, bro- he’s talking about your mom!”

Kurt, who was still picking at beer labels and not paying attention, perked up and looked at Hank. “Doctor McCoy! You’ve met my mother?”

Hank set his now-empty cup aside and gave a sly grin before taking a large gulp of tequila. “Well, Kurt- if you wanna get _technical-”_

“Jesus _fucking_ Christ, Hank-” All eyes turned towards the door, where a very angry Raven now stood in her housecoat. “Is this how you’ve decided to ‘deal with them’?”

“You’re in so much trouble!” Jubilee whispered to Hank, as Ororo swatted at her.

Hank’s mouth hung open as he stared and emitted a “Uuuuuhh” sound.

Raven scoffed and stepped into the room. “Get to bed. All of you. Now.” she demanded.

“Okay!” Kurt said, slurred but pleasant, as he hopped up and wobbled as he adjusted his clothes. He held his arms out. “Who needs a lift?”

“No. Absolutely not.” Raven snapped. “No drunk teleporting.” She pointed towards Peter next. “And no drunk… _running around_. I’m not spending tomorrow picking parts of all your carcasses off the staircase and out of the drywall.”

She crossed her arms sternly as the X-Men slowly stood up, stretched, and gathered their things, with varying levels of success and coordination. “Hurry up! Back to your rooms!”

She groaned and rolled her eyes as everyone automatically sorted themselves into their respective couples. “Your _own_ rooms.” she reiterated. The team murmured in disappointment as they individually made their way out of the room.

“And we thought _Scott_  was a cockblocker…” Ororo grumbled.

“Uh, what?” Scott asked, but was ignored.   

Once they had filed out, she turned to Hank, who immediately stood, bleary-eyed and wavering. “And what about you?” she pressed, hands on her hips. “What, you thought you were gonna be the ‘cool teacher’ and hang out with the gang? Is that it?”

Hank shook his head silently, his mouth firmly shut.

“And is that my vodka bottle- my _empty_ vodka bottle?” she demanded, pointing at the bottle which now laid on its side.

He nodded ruefully, frowning silently.

She peered at him analytically. “Are you just trying not to throw up right now?”

He nodded rapidly.

“Arg!” She raked her hands through her hair in frustration. “Well, better go throw up before you fuckin’ puke on me or whatever. Idiot.” Hank spun on his heel and scurried off to find the nearest bathroom. Raven shook her head and sighed, slowly walking after him, kicking a loose beer bottle out of the way as she went. “What a fucking shitshow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is from Merle Haggard's 1980 song of the same name.  
> RIP to Neil Peart, legendary drummer from Rush. Peter would have been devastated.
> 
> Next chapter will have, I promise, actual plot development. And maybe some sex. Also, we're looking at between two and four chapters, total, left on this thing, depending on how long they are and how they flow when I type them out. We're in the home stretch, people!


	39. Wheel In The Sky Keeps On Turnin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven tries to teach Hank's class. There's a double-date at an orchard. Peter finally convinces someone to check out his awesome blacklight posters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All kinds of goings-on in this long-ass chapter. Some sexual content. Among other things, we find out who can sing and who can't, thanks to Journey and John Denver.

“Alright, booze-hounds! I hope you like _flashing lights_  and _loud noises_ , because I’m teaching the class today and I have zero sympathy for-” Raven stopped her loud announcement immediately after slamming a pile of books down on the desk, as she looked up to see her collection of students. They were all sitting quietly, books and writing utensils arranged neatly, looking well and ready to learn.  

“You guys don’t look too hung over.” she commented suspiciously as she spread out the day’s teaching materials.

“Well, you see, when you told us to all go to our own rooms and go to bed last night, we actually did the opposite of that.” Ororo explained carefully.

“We all went to ‘Ro’s room and played more drinking games for another hour or so.” Scott added.

“Except instead of playing with alcohol, we played with water and healthy snacks.” Kurt chimed in.

“Then we all had a pretty good night’s sleep.” Jean concluded.

Raven stood, silent and dumbfounded.

“Speaking of which, where did everyone sleep last night? I was the first to fall asleep and the last to wake up, so I’m just curious…” Scott asked, looking around at his friends.

“Jean and I were in the bed, with our heads on the pillows like regular people.” Ororo offered.

“I was also in the bed. With all the women.” Kurt said quietly, with a slight smirk.

“Calm down, Casanova.” Jean quipped. “You slept across the foot of the bed like a damn house cat.”

“And you make a shitty pillow, by the way. You’re all twitchy and bony.” Jubilee pointed out as she picked her cuticles. Kurt shrugged.

“So if that’s where you all were, then that means…” Scott frowned when he turned to Peter, who was already grinning. “No.”

“Yup!” Peter replied. “You’re, like, _real_  cuddly when you sleep, dude.”

“Fuck off.”

“Nah, it’s cool, bro. I mean, we didn’t have a blanket so it’s a good way to conserve body heat.” Peter gave Scott a friendly pat on the back.

“Uuuugh…my God…” Scott groaned as he dragged his hands down the side of his face.

Raven, who was still standing at the front of the classroom, shook her head. “You guys need to get out more.” she muttered quietly, before walking back behind the desk and sorting out the books. “Hank spent the night on the bathroom floor, by the way.” she said, voice tinged with annoyance. “He’s, uh, still on the bathroom floor, so I’m gonna teach his lecture today.”

The team situated themselves and opened their notes as she flipped through one of the books she had brought with her.

“So, Hank said you guys are about halfway through Electromagnetics, which should bring us to, um…Magnetoquasistatic fields…?” Raven paused, tilting her head as she skimmed notes, and then slowly wrote the word on the chalk board. Everyone jotted notes quickly, and looked back up for elaboration.

“So, one thing we should focus on, _apparently_ , is magnetic phase synchronous coupling, which, um…” Raven stopped and flipped through the pages of notes and textbooks that Hank had given her. “Um…we see sometimes with X-ray production and, uh…. some parts of superheterodyne receivers?” She flipped more pages. “Which are, um…a type of… _reciever_ … that…”

Everyone in the class jumped when she suddenly slammed the book shut and tossed her chalk onto the desk. “Fuck. Fuck it. I don’t understand this shit, and I’m not gonna try.”

She walked to the front of the classroom, sweeping her gaze over her now confused students. “So, I know the way that this all works out for you makes it seem like you’re being rewarded with a day off. You are ****not****. You will all pay for the events of yesterday evening eventually. But, for now, I’m letting you go.”

She looked down and shook her head as the group erupted in cheers.

“So, what’s the plan, guys?” Scott surveyed immediately as everyone packed up their things.

“Ooh! Ooh!” Jubilee waved her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Today is the last day of the Summer Harvest Festival. I say we go down there and demand that they SUCK ALL OF OUR DICKS!” she yelled, panning her hands across the room.

“Thank you, Jubilee. That’s very kind.” Ororo replied warmly.

“Pfft! We don’t even have to do that!” Jean argued. “We just have to go down there as a group and stand around, like-” She set her posture sternly and tossed her hair behind her shoulder. “’Heard you guys been talkin’ shit.’”  

“Oooh…” Scott cooed, impressed. “That’ll work. We’re mutants. They _hate_  when we do that.”

“Well, I say we just go with a little _malicious compliance_.” Peter said, cracking his knuckles and leaning back in his chair. “We’ll just roll in and play their stupid games and win all their little prizes. What are they gonna do about it?” He grinned and motioned towards his own crotch with both hands. “Don’t like how I won all the ring-toss games? Why dontcha toss a ring on _this_?”

“Imagine. Being skilled enough to hit such a small target.” Scott said with a smirk. Peter opened his mouth to make a comment but was interrupted by Kurt.

“I promise to win you a goldfish.” Kurt said quietly to Ororo, while softly touching her shoulder. She placed her hand on his and smiled warmly.

“Dude, we’re all gonna have so many fuckin’ goldfish. We’re gonna have all their goddamn goldfish.” Peter said confidently to Kurt, who grinned and clutched his hands together.

“Absolutely not.” Raven, who until now had been observing the exchange with mild interest, stated authoritatively. “No goldfish. Not one. They’re banned. If I see _any of you_  with a goldfish _at any time_ , _you_  and _it_  can go live in that gross puddle in the ditch outside the gate.”

The X-Men sat silently and looked at each other as they contemplated what brought on this particular tirade.

Raven wasn’t nearly done. “And if you guys are planning on going out in public and making some kinda dumb-ass _scene_  that gets you all arrested, please keep in mind that I only like _one of you_  enough to bother bailing you out.”

Jean quickly pressed her fingertips to her temple. “It’s Jubilee, guys.”

Jubilee sat back and grinned proudly as everyone else nodded and murmured about how that just made sense.

Raven barely suppressed her aggravated scoff before gathering up her stack of books and papers. “Anyway. I’m out.” she said before marching out the door.

As soon as Raven was out the door, everyone instinctively rearranged themselves , either switching seats or shoving desks together. Soon, the guys were on one side of the classroom, loudly joking and chatting, while the girls were in a tight huddle on the other side.

“So, ‘Ro…how are things going with Kurt?” Jean asked immediately.

“Oh! Quite well.” Ororo responded pleasantly.

“Um, we mean sex-wise.” Jubilee elaborated.

“Yes, I know.” Ororo confirmed. Jean and Jubilee looked at each other and back to Ororo. “Well, he’s getting less shy and more confident. So that’s good.” The other girls nodded along and huddled in closer. Ororo looked down in consideration. “There are some things he just doesn’t _get_ , though. For example, the other day I asked him for a back rub, and he literally just rubbed my back.”

“That’s it? No sex?” Jean pressed. Ororo nodded. “Weird.”

“Because, usually, if you ask for a back rub, men are like-” Jubilee reached to Jean’s back and softly rubbed below her neck for half a second. “And then you hear them unzip.”

“I know. That’s what I wanted.” Ororo replied. “But he really,-” she held her hands up in a stiff, claw-like position. “ _really_  got in there. I carry a lot of tension around my shoulder blades, apparently.”

“Huh.” Jean muttered in mild confusion.

Ororo shrugged, then turned to Jubilee. “And what about you two? Is it back to normal, or have you settled on whether you want to date or not?”

Jubilee sighed heavily and collapsed into her chair. “Fuck, I dunno. Every time I think to myself ‘Hey! Going on a date wouldn’t be so bad!’ I realize that I’m only thinking that because I’m hungry.”

“Oh! That gives me an idea!” Jean announced gleefully. “Me and Scott had been talking about going apple picking while the weather’s still nice, and today would be the perfect day for it, now that we don’t have class! The orchard would be deserted, and there would be food! In the form of apples!” She paused for reaction, hands held out, smiling enthusiastically.

“Fuckin’ _lame_ , Jean. Omigawd.” Jubilee snapped immediately. “I got a day off, so I’m gonna pretend I’m a farmer. Sure, why not? Bogus.” Jean frowned.

“I think that sounds delightful, Jean. Let me check with Kurt to see if he’s interested.” Ororo replied with a smile, before getting up and walking towards the boys. She called Kurt over, and they quietly discussed Jean’s proposal. Ororo quickly made her way back to Jean and Jubilee. “Kurt is also in. Apparently, he loves both apples _and_  climbing trees.”  

Jean scratched her head. “You don’t have to climb the tree to pick the apples. They’re at eye level.”

“Well, he’s very excited and I don’t feel like disappointing him.”

Jean shrugged and gathered her class supplies. “Sure, whatever. Anyway, we should grab our stuff and get a move on! The orchard is about a forty-five minute drive.”

******  

It wasn’t long until Jean, Scott, Kurt, and Ororo had gathered their things and hit the road. Scott was driving, and Jean held the map while Ororo and Kurt sat in the backseat.

“I really hope they have Gala apples, those are the best for making pie…” Jean said idly as she re-folded the map.

“You bake, Jean? You’ve never baked before.” Scott commented.

“That’s cuz I didn’t have the right apples, hon!”

“Hmm. I prefer Elstar or Bramley, but anything that’s not too sweet should do.” Kurt added casually, and everyone turned to look at him.

“You bake, too?” Scott asked. Kurt nodded.

“That’s a little surprising. I don’t want to be mean, but I’ve had your cooking, and…” Ororo trailed off with a cringe.

“Well, yes. I’m not a great cook. But I spent many hours helping my mother peel apples and bake pies for the entire troupe, and I could make them in my sleep.” Kurt explained. “I’m looking forward to making a proper, decent-tasting pie.”

Scott shrugged, dangling one arm out of the open car window. “That diner across from the liquor store has an alright pie selection.”

“It’s okay, but the apple pie here lacks the flavor of a good _appelkruimeltaart._ There’s no comparison.”

“Well, my apple pie is essentially what apple pie is supposed to taste like. There’s a whole saying about it. ‘As American as apple pie’? You may have heard it.” Jean pointed out with a hint of smugness. Scott grinned.

Kurt gripped the back of both front seats and pulled himself forward until he was between Scott and Jean. “I would contend that not only is American-style apple pie lacking when compared to European varieties, but also that the Dutch perfected the apple pie before America was even a country.”  

“Ooooh. Okay…” Jean raised her eyebrows and looked at Scott.

“Those are fighting words!” Scott replied with a laugh. “You can’t come here and insult our baked goods!”

“There’s only one way to settle this!” Ororo chimed in from the back seat. “Both Kurt and Jean make their preferred type of pie. Then myself and other people around the school will take part in a blind taste-test.” Kurt and Jean both nodded along seriously. “That way, no matter which type of pie is deemed superior, the true winner is me, because I get to eat the most pie.”

Jean gave a small shrug and reached into the back seat. “Sounds good to me. May the best pie win!” she said, offering her hand to Kurt. He shook it with a pleasant nod.

“And I can have some, too, right?” Scott asked tentatively, glancing between Jean and Kurt as he tried to watch the road.  

 

As they drove further away from the town and the countryside became increasingly rural, Kurt and Ororo observed the roadside farmland with rapt interest.

“Oh! That farm has a llama!” Kurt pointed out the window enthusiastically.

Ororo practically jumped to his side of the seat. “Where!” She returned to her side of the car once the farm was out of sight. “Llamas are quite aggressive. Farmers like them, because they keep coyotes away. I read about it in one of my horticulture books.” Kurt listened intently.  

“Fascinating stuff, guys.” Jean said with a dry laugh, shaking her head before she returned to her previous activity of humming along to the radio. Suddenly, she reached for the volume dial and turned it up, and started singing “younger than the mountains, blowing like a breeze-” along to the radio. Scott noticed and appeared to perk up.

No sooner had Ororo and Kurt glanced at each other in confusion when Jean and Scott both started belting out “Country roads, take me home..” Scott, amazingly, could carry a tune. Jean, not so much.

As his two friends continued to work their way through the chorus of the song, Kurt whispered, “Ororo, what is happening?”

She stared back, eyes narrowed analytically as she laced her hands together on her lap. “I don’t know.” she concluded. She glanced out the window and then back to Kurt, raising an eyebrow as Jean and Scott got to the ‘West Virginia, mountain mama’ part of the song. “But if it gets any worse, I think we’re going slow enough that we could tuck-and-roll out of the vehicle.”

“That won’t be necessary, _Liebling._ Just say the word and I can teleport us safely to the ditch. _”_

_“_ Oh my God! You two are so dramatic, you deserve each other.” Jean commented with a laugh.

“You guys _have_  to know this song, right? Everyone knows this song!” Scott added, smiling broadly.

“Scott, I only found out last week that there isn’t an _East_  Virginia.” Kurt replied flatly.

Ororo nodded along. “Personally, I can’t get over the whole Kansas-Arkansas pronunciation issue. Why can’t it just be Ar-kansas?”

Jean turned in her seat to pat Ororo’s shoulder. “If Americans don’t worry about it, then neither should you!”     

Minutes later, the opening notes of a song caught Ororo’s attention, and she smiled and quickly thrust her arm between the two front seats, pointing towards the radio.

“Ooh! Turn it up! I love this one!”

Scott increased the volume just as “ _Wheel In The Sky_ ” by Journey started into the lyrics. They listened along, Ororo humming contently, until after the first chorus. Scott grinned and turned slightly towards Ororo.

“I can see what you like about this song.”

She smiled back and raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. It’s just about feelings and weather.” Scott answered confidently. She laughed. “No, really! Like, listen- the guy’s like ‘Oh, I’m hoping to plow my girlfriend. The weather’s pretty nasty. I’m remembering stuff from when we were together. The weather’s pretty nice.’”

“Uh, ‘hoping to plow his girlfriend’? Wow, Scott. You truly have a poet’s soul.” Jean commented sarcastically. He just laughed.  

“It’s not like I’m the only person who associates weather and mood.” Ororo replied. “Why do you think it always rains at funerals in movies, or why all murder mysteries take place during thunderstorms?”

“I always thought getting caught in the rain together was a bit romantic.” Kurt added quietly.

Ororo shot him a side-glance, grazing his knee with her hand. “I’ll make it rain on us later.”

“Uh, no!” Jean interjected. “It’s not romantic! It sucks!”

“You can wait in the car and have Scott read you love poems he wrote.” Ororo quipped. Jean stuck her tongue out at her.

“What? I just need to think of a word that rhymes with ‘Jean’.” Scott argued, and grinned when she shot him a look.

“Mean.” Ororo offered immediately.

“Spleen?” Kurt joined in.

“Ugh!”

“Ooh! Ooh! This is my favorite part!” Ororo announced gleefully, gesturing towards the radio. She tilted her head back, eyes closed, and belted out the ending of the song along with Steve Perry. “’Ooh, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know!’”

Scott and Jean exchanged a look, clearly impressed and surprised. Kurt’s mouth gaped open. “ _Schatz,_ you never told me you could sing!”

She beamed at him and gave a small shrug. “I can’t sing that well!” He raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And nobody asked!”

“You didn’t sing when we were at church.” he replied, sounding serious but with a small smirk.

She pointed at him accusingly. “YOU didn’t sing in church!”

“Well, there’s no reason for _everyone_ to suffer.” he muttered in self defense. She gave him a playful shove.

Not long after, they pulled onto the long dirt driveway that lead to the orchard. Upon parking the car, everyone filed out, and Scott gathered up the collection of canvas bags they’d brought with them to pick apples into, and carried them up to the attendant. The man was probably in his late fifties and dressed in well-worn denim and plaid, topped with a fraying peaked hat that sported the logo of a tractor company. He was sitting at a decaying park bench that had an old-fashioned scale on it, under the shade of a faded beach umbrella. He glanced up from his Stephen King novel as he heard footsteps approaching, and -although he appeared to raise an eyebrow at Kurt following close on Scott’s heel, he was not bothered enough to stop chewing his toothpick.

The man dozily walked Scott through the process of weighing the bags and labeling each with masking tape, and gave instructions on how to navigate the various apple varieties of the orchard. As Scott thanked the man and turned back towards the car, Kurt peeked out from around him.

“Should we give you some money now, in case we eat some apples while we’re picking them?” he asked timidly. Scott stopped in his tracks and sighed, shaking his head.

The man flipped his toothpick over. “Son, come Wednesday, everything that isn’t picked is going to processing to get turned into juice. So unless you’re planning on eating as much as a whole herd of deer, I don’t give a rat’s ass.”

Kurt smiled and thanked him as Scott dragged him back to the car. They drove up the bumpy dirt lane into the orchard, until they found a place to park among rows of apple trees. Wooden signs labeling the varieties were staked at regular intervals. Again, everyone hopped out of the car and grabbed a bag. Jean stood, arms crossed, and surveyed her surroundings.

“So, I think if we get a bag of McIntosh and a bag of Granny Smith, that should cover our bases in terms of everyday ‘eating’ applies, unless they have Golden Delicious, then I’d want some of those too.” she explained. Kurt nodded in agreement.    

Not one to waste time, Scott walked over to the first ripe apple he saw and picked it, throwing it in his bag.

“Uh, what the hell are you doing?” Jean asked incredulously.

“Picking apples?” came Scott’s tentative, confused answer.

He got even more confused as Jean scoffed and rolled her eyes while Kurt snickered quietly.

“That is a cider apple.” Kurt pointed out with amusement. Scott slumped, glancing between his friends. Jean looked disappointed. Ororo returned a helpless shrug.  

Scott edged closer to Ororo, leaning towards her and whispering. “You’re the plant expert! What is going on?”

“This is all much more complicated than I anticipated!” Ororo whispered back, with a hint of bewilderment.

Jean crossed her arms sternly, turning to Kurt. “We really should have organized these two better before we left the house.”

Kurt gave a solemn nod. “Did we ever come to a decision about the apple sauce?”

Jean shrugged and tossed her hair back. “It’s a good idea, but we have a lack of jars to keep it in. Maybe next year.” Kurt nodded again just as Jean clapped her hands together, rubbing them and raising her voice. “Alright, guys! Here’s the plan!”  

******

“Huh. Today is brought to us by the letter ‘X’.”

“Neat.”

Jubilee was slumped into the corner of the TV room couch with her feet up on the coffee table. Peter was sprawled across the other seventy-five percent of the couch, with his head on her lap and one leg flung over the back. In his hands he clutched a box of Cap'n Crunch, which he regularly stuffed into his mouth. They were listlessly watching daytime children’s programming, as neither of them had come up with an idea of what to do with their surprise day off.

“Hey.” she muttered, flicking his arm. He deftly tossed a cereal piece into her open mouth, which she crunched loudly.

“I think Captain Crunch is my favorite superhero.” Peter mumbled to himself, admiring the box art.

“He’s not a superhero. He’s just a guy in the Navy.” Jubilee replied with disinterest.

Peter dredged the bottom of the box, coming up with nothing but crumbs and sugar dust. He tossed the box onto the coffee table. “Wanna go play Atari or somethin’?”

“Ugh. I gotta take a break from Atari. I’m hearing the sounds in my dreams now.” Jubilee replied, shaking her head.

“We could swing by the arcade?”

“I’m banned from the arcade. They have a little picture of me by the door and everything.”

“Holy shit. You are basically the perfect woman.”

“Knock it off!” she cried shrilly, giving his shaggy head a shove. He laughed but did nothing to retaliate. She leaned her head back, groaning and raking her hands through her hair. “I’m boooored!” she complained. “I almost wish we _had_  gone apple picking, just to get out of the house!”

Peter scoffed loudly. “Pfft. You think they’re _actually_  picking apples?”

“Uh, yeah? What else?”

“Think about it! Why the hell would anyone _pay_  to go pick apples? They sell apples at the grocery store.” Peter explained. Jubilee nodded slowly in consideration. “They probably all went to, like, a nudist beach or something weird like that.”

“Oh, come on! Are those even real?” Jubilee laughed.

“Yah-huh!” Peter gave an exaggerated nod. “Or they might have just wanted to get out of the house to go fuck outdoors or something. People do that.”

“No way!” Jubilee said with a high laugh.

“Mark my words.” Peter said seriously, pointing at her. “They’ll be back in, like, three hours. All sweaty. And with a plastic bag of apples from a gas station.” Jubilee laughed and shook her head.

******

“That is a _fuck-ton_  of apples, you guys.”

Scott stared approvingly into the trunk of the car at the assortment of canvas bags filled to the brim with a variety of apples.

“I can’t wait to eat several pies.” Ororo said wistfully to no one.

“It was much cheaper to pick our own apples, when compared to buying them from the store.” Kurt pointed out, impressed. “It’s a wonder everyone doesn’t get their apples this way!”

Jean nodded in agreement before looking at her watch. “It’s pretty early. Anyone got any other ideas of how to put in the afternoon?”

Scott closed the trunk and crossed his arms, smirking and nodding to himself. “Oh, I can think of a few things…”

 

“Pull!”

On cue, Kurt -who was sitting near the top of one of the orchard’s tallest trees- flung a small apple into the distance. Scott, who had changed from his glasses to his visor, quickly obliterated the apple with a narrow optic beam.

“Good one.” Ororo commented politely, prompting a smile from Scott.

“Again!” Scott called to Kurt, who immediately threw another apple.

As Scott brought his hand to his visor, Jean gave a barely perceptible wave of her hand. His shot missed by less than an inch. “Hey!” he called out, looking accusingly at Jean. She held her hands up innocently.

“Ready?” Kurt shouted from the top of the tree, apple in-hand.

“Yup!” Scott shouted back, not noticing Ororo’s eyes cloud over. Again, his shot missed as the apple suddenly changed trajectory with the breeze.

Scott spun around and glared at the two now-giggling women. “Hold up, Kurt! I’m getting double-teamed over here.”

“I’m still on your side, Scott!” Kurt called down pleasantly.

“I know, buddy! You’re one of the good ones!”

Jean and Ororo burst into sustained laughter at Scott when he started shaking his head in disapproval. He sighed and switched out his visor for his glasses as they continued to laugh, and he was soon smiling as well. Kurt teleported to the ground as they all started walking back towards the car.

Once there, Scott raised an eyebrow as Ororo reached into the back seat of the car to retrieve a well-worn canvas kitbag. She and Jean exchanged a knowing glance just as she linked her arm with Kurt’s, muttering to him quietly as she led him away from the car and deeper into the orchard, towards the forest that surrounded the property.

“What are they up to?” Scott asked, as Jean leaned against the car, watching them leave with her arms crossed.

“Oh, just a little picnic.” Jean responded airily, with a small smirk.

“Oh, sweet! A picnic!” Scott stepped away from the car and towards where his friends were headed.

“Uh, no, Scott!” Jean grabbed his sleeve. “You’re not gonna want to join them on this ‘picnic.’”

“Oh.” Scott replied, disappointed. Then, the cogs in his head actually turned. “Oh!” Jean laughed.

“’Ro and I had a bit of an understanding that they’d do this if the weather was nice and there was no one else around the orchard.” Jean explained.

Scott nodded, and then frowned and crossed his arms. “So we’re- what? Just supposed to wait in the car?”  

With that, Jean flashed him a quick smile before opening the driver’s side door, clamoring across the seat and sitting in the passenger side, with her back against the door and her legs folded demurely beneath her. She smoothed out the hem of her light blue, softly pleated cotton skirt. “In as many words.”

Jean laughed as he scrambled into the car, and brought herself up onto her knees to meet him in the middle once he had situated himself in the driver’s side. She threw her arms around his neck as they kissed, short and sweet at first, but then deeper as she ran her hands down his back and up under his shirt.

He gripped her waist and pulled back, just as she intended to climb into his lap. “Wait!” he said, glancing out the car window skeptically. “Maybe we shouldn’t, um, start anything serious if they’re just gonna show up again in a few minutes?”

Jean scoffed and slumped, sitting back down on the seat. “Don’t worry! They’re not gonna sneak up on us. ‘Ro promised to give me a psychic heads-up when they were on their way back.”

Scott frowned in consideration, still unconvinced.

Jean crossed her arms and stared, frustrated, for a few seconds before tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “Oh my God, okay…” she started with a sigh. “So, basically, ‘Ro has this, uh… _thing_  where she likes to get, um… _au natural…”_

Scott furrowed his brow. “Seriously? She’s, like, _pretty_. I don’t think she has to run off into the woods just to take her makeup off.”  

Jean gawked, head tilted, at Scott before taking a deep breath. “ _Au natural_ doesn’t mean ‘no makeup.’ It means ‘naked’.”

Scott gasped. “Oh?”

“Like, bare ass.”

“Oh!”

“No clothes.”

“’Kay, I got it.”

“And she isn’t even wearing makeup, so…”

“Oh?”

“Ugh, yeah, I know. Her complexion’s flawless.”

Scott just scowled and shrugged, confused.

“So anyway. She wants to do _that_ , and she also wants to get Kurt to do _that_ , so it’s gonna take some time. They’re not just gonna jump into the first leaf pile they see like a couple of horny squirrels.”

“Hmm.” Scott looked down, deep in thought. “Don’t know if that’s gonna work out for her. I don’t think Kurt would be into that.”

Jean gave a casual shrug and picked a blade of grass off her white canvas tennis shoes. “I told you. Europeans have more progressive attitudes about nudity than Americans.” Scott nodded slightly. “Plus, she can be _very persuasive_.”  

Scott grinned. “Lemme guess. ‘Persuasive’ also means ‘naked’?” Jean gave a quick, impish shrug. He sat back in the driver’s seat, quickly reaching to the floor to pull the lever that slid the seat all the way back. “Well-” he said, he and Jean both grinning as she gleefully climbed into his lap. “Looks like we have the whole afternoon to ourselves!”

******

Hand-in-hand, Kurt and Ororo made their way past the neat rows of trees towards the back of the property, where a small undeveloped field separated the orchard from the natural treeline. At Kurt’s insistence, he now held the kitbag. He paused and gripped the canvas strap while looking around at the surrounding landscape. Ororo only noticed when she had inadvertently given his arm a tug as she kept walking.

“It is a gorgeous day.” she finally said, after staring at him staring.

He shot her a crooked smile and a side-glance as he took the steps to catch up to her. “Yes, it is.”

“Don’t look at me! This is all natural!”

“I didn’t say anything!” He help up a hand in self-defense, but soon returned to looking around.

“What are you thinking?”

“Oh! Um…” He quickly looked at his feet, a little embarrassed. “There are parts of Germany that look like this. Not exactly, but quite similar. It makes me a little homesick.”

She slipped her arm around his lower back, pulling him closer. His arm fell easily around her shoulder and they continued walking, albeit slower than before. “Hmm. I’ve never seen anything here that reminds me of home.”

He rubbed her shoulder. “Do you miss it?” he asked sympathetically.

She paused to think. “Egypt I don’t miss at all. I’m sure there are part of it that are lovely, but the areas I was relegated to were dry, dirty and lifeless. Kenya, though…” She sighed. “Kenya is just…beyond description. The landscape…arid plains stretching farther than one can see, filled with hundreds- no, thousands- of animals, of every type imaginable. There’s mountains with snow, rivers and lakes and mangrove swamps. There’s blue, blue ocean. But what I miss the most is the rolling hills, covered in trees, so dense and rich and in shades of green I’ve never seen anywhere else. One couldn’t even imagine it if they hadn’t seen it for themselves.”

Kurt stared off in silent awe, trying to picture it in his head. She redirected his attention by tugging him closer with the arm around his lower back. “Is there anything you miss from back home?”

He glanced upward in consideration. “Pretzels that are actually pretzels.”

Ororo burst into laughter and shoved him away playfully. He crossed his arms and tried not to laugh along.

After a few more steps, Ororo determined that they had found the ideal picnic location, and she stood in front of Kurt, removing the kitbag from his shoulder and dropping it unceremoniously to the ground before placing both hands on his chest. “There is one other thing, in particular, that I miss. Especially on a day as perfect as this.”      

“Hmm?” He had placed his hands gently at her waist, but his tail had already coiled itself around her calf.

“To stand in nature. To feel the heat of the sun on my skin. To be unburdened, unconfined by clothing or shame. To be as we are intended to be.”

His fingers curl into the fabric of her sundress. “As God made you?” he responded, his voice low.

She suppressed a small laugh, but couldn’t hide the smile. “And also you.”

His mouth straightened and he stiffened. “Oh, no.” he blurted, head shaking rapidly. “ _Nein_. No.”

“It’s fine!” she insisted, and hooked her thumbs under the thin straps of her dress, sliding them down her shoulders. “I’ll go first.”

“Ororo!” he gasped, putting his hands over hers. “ _Anyone_  could walk by!”

“Please!” she scoffed. “We have not seen a single person aside from the attendant and Scott and Jean since we have been here.”

“Even still!” he argued desperately. “Scott and Jean could come looking for us. I’m sure Jean doesn’t need to see-” He gestured vaguely over his entire body. “all _this_.”

“I agree.” Ororo replied, holding her head up. “She is just _insufferable_  when she is jealous.” Kurt crossed his arms and tilted his head. Ororo slumped slightly and gestured back to the direction of the car. “Jean said her and Scott were going to have some, um… _personal time_ …in the car while we were having our picnic. So we’re safe from them as well.”

Kurt’s arms remained firmly crossed as he shifted his weight on his feet. “That still only gives us a couple of minutes.”

Ororo burst into laughter again, leaning against him and patting his chest. He tentatively uncrossed his arms, but still eyed her warily. She stood in front of him again to take both his hands in hers. “Jean and I agreed that we would each give each other _time_  and _privacy_ , and that if either of us were to approach one another, we would give each other sufficient psychic warning.” she explained carefully.

Kurt stared at his feet, digging his toes into the soft ground. “It was never about the apples, was it?”

“We have a trunk full of apples. This is just a bonus.” She smiled and tilted her head. “It’s the icing on the apple cake!”

He scoffed quietly at the lameness of her pun, but couldn’t hide his amusement. “An apple cake doesn’t have any icing.” She shot him a look and swung his hands with hers playfully. “The ride home is going to be very awkward.” he argued quietly, but his posture and expression had softened.

“Between your teleporting and my flying, I think we can cope.”

He peeked up at her briefly, just a brief glint of gold before he averted his eyes back down again. She let go of his hands and slid hers up his chest and around his shoulders. “And if anyone else were to wander by, we would hear them in plenty of time to jump behind a shrub or something like that. There is nothing to worry about.” She moved her hand up his neck to cup his face, directing him to look at her. “When you think about it, we’ve never had this much privacy.”

He laughed nervously and turned away again, fidgeting with the strap of her dress by running his nail alongside it.  

She fell against him with a sigh, pressing her body to his and wrapping her arms around him again. “And it really isn’t fair-” she started lowly. “that for all the times we’ve been together, I’ve never really gotten a good look at you.”

He scoffed sharply and pulled back to look at her face. “Now that is ridiculous.”

“It’s true!” she replied indignantly. “You essentially disappear when it’s dark.”

“I do not!”

“You do!” She stood taller, gesturing at him with one hand on her hip. “If it weren’t for your eyes, there would be no way to keep track of you after nine PM.” He crossed his arms again, staring at her skeptically. “And the fact that you can see perfectly even in complete darkness is just doubly unfair.”

He shifted uncomfortably, snugging his arms around his chest and looking off into the treeline. “Well,” he finally said in a small voice. “even if that were true, then it is probably for the best.”

“Is that what this is about?” she replied softly. She reached out to tug at his arms to uncross them, pulling him into an embrace and resting her head on his shoulder. “You think that even after everything, I could reject you now?” He gave a silent, barely perceptible shrug. “Because that’s impossible.”

She stepped away from him, crouching to retrieve a worn flannel blanket from the kitbag she had brought. She shook it open, spreading it out on the ground. She stepped out of her shoes and stepped onto the blanket before slipping the straps of her dress off her shoulders and peeling the garment off her body, glancing up through thick lashes as she shimmied her dress and panties off her hips together. She stepped out of the pile of clothes with a light exhale, casually nudging the two items into a neat stack at the corner of the blanket. She stood tall, hands on her hips, fully nude in the midday sun, radiant and unashamed.

“There. Your turn.”

She was aware of the effect she had on men. Throughout her life, countless men had called her beautiful, or something like it. They would say it like they were bestowing something upon her, giving her permission to be something she already was. She wasn’t conceited, but she wasn’t blind either. She didn’t need anyone to tell her how she looked. She also didn’t need anyone to tell her that she looked even better in natural sunlight.     

Kurt, as per usual, was just _different_. He would, and often did, compliment her, but it just didn’t feel the same as when other men said the same words. He looked upon her with a sort of awe, and when he told her how felt about what he saw, she felt adored rather than demeaned. The names he called her- she had learned through use of the library’s ancient German/English dictionary- merely reflected how much she meant to him. _Liebling_  was ‘darling’ and _Schatz_  was ‘treasure.’ _Honigbiene_ was a little weird, but his heart was in the right place.  

He had frozen on the edge of the blanket, shyly peeking at her with both hands gripping the hem of his grey-and-red baseball-style t-shirt. She laughed a little at his hesitance to look directly at her. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen before, but it was still impolite to stare. She stepped across the blanket and turned his face to her, before pressing herself against him and curling her fingers into his hair as she kissed him, soft and slow. He moved his hands across her hips and up her back as she let hers slip down to grasp the hem of his shirt. When the kiss broke she peered at him expectantly, still gripping his shirt. He closed his eyes and gave a long exhale before quickly pulling the garment over his head and tossing it down on the blanket.

She couldn’t help herself, grinning victoriously as she immediately ran her hands greedily over newly-exposed flesh. He had already moved on to rapidly undoing his belt, apparently in a race with himself in case he changed his mind. He paused only momentarily with a low groan as she leaned in to kiss and nip at his chest.

“G _eliebte,_ the things that I do for you…” he breathed in a husky voice. ‘G _eliebte’_ was one she didn’t completely understand. She only knew he almost never said it with his clothes on. As he had unbuttoned his jeans, she quickly plunged her flattened palm down his side, under the waistband of his boxers, and over his hip and thigh. Once his fly was unzipped, she gripped the base of this tail, running her hand down its entire length as he pulled it back through the hole in his clothes. His eyes closed as he hissed at the contact.

Seconds later, his clothes joined hers in a similar pile. He pulled her to him, wrapping both arms around her fully, tail coiled snugly around her thigh, as he tilted his head for a deep, hungry kiss. She pressed back against him, hands roaming everywhere. She can feel his cock twitch against her belly, and the feeling of her skin on his is as electrifying as it’s ever been. That is, until she realizes that he’s mostly using her body to cover his own.

She broke the kiss and took a quick step back, and is entirely unsurprised when he immediately crosses his arms and wraps his tail around his calf. She reached out and took his hands, holding them in the space between them. “Please-” she soothed. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.”    

He gave a short, affirmative grunt and looked away as she moved her eyes over his lithe frame. Everything was mostly as she had expected, but still so much more. His lean, perfectly muscled abdomen led her eyes down to his long, slim, toned legs. She shouldn't help but stare at his erection, jutting almost comically out from his otherwise flat lower belly. The rich indigo of his skin was rendered even brighter by the sunlight, leaving her thinking that this color may not exist anywhere else in nature. His scars were highlighted, too, revealing intricacies she hadn’t noticed before.

“Are you nearly done?” he asked in a small voice, pulling her from her reverie.

“Oh, no.” she breathed. “I’ll never be done.” She noted an almost imperceptibility small nod as continued to look away. She watched his tail tighten around his leg. She moved closer to him, releasing one hand to trace her knuckles up his side. “I’m not _evaluating_  you. I’m just…appreciating how lucky a woman I am.”   

He peeked up at her, actually holding her gaze for a second. “You don’t have to say that.” he offered quietly. He unwound his tail from his leg, letting it coil loosely around her waist. “I know I'm the lucky one.”

She scoffed, but let him pull her closer with gentle hands.

“There are times,” he started, “when I look at you-” He paused, distracted, as she had resumed kissing across his neck and shoulder. “At night, when we’re together in your room, under your skylight...most people probably couldn’t see anything at all, but I can. Under starlight, _Liebling_ , your skin almost glows. Your eyes are just perfect. I almost can’t believe that someone so beautiful could be real, much less that you would be with me.”

“Believe it.” she breathed, pressing herself against him again. She ran her hands over his back and around the base of his tail. “I think that you would believe it, if you could see yourself the way that I see you.”

He stilled for a moment, before nudging the side of her face with his, encouraging her to turn towards a kiss, which started slow but soon became insistent and all-encompassing. His heated cock, sandwiched between them, throbbed with every heartbeat. He cupped her breast with one hand, tracing around her hardened nipple with his thumbnail, and she gasped and gripped his neck to kiss him deeper. His tail shifted around her waist, with the spade slipping between her legs, caressing and stimulating her in its own wholly unique way. She broke the kiss, panting, just as she felt his hard nails rake gently down her sides and over her rear. He crouched slightly, gripping both her thighs, and she couldn’t help but give a surprised yelp when he picked her up off the ground. She instinctively grabbed his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. She shot him an amused, questioning look, and the one he returned was pure, unbridled lust.

The sudden noise and swirling blue/black smoke of teleportation startled her so much, she hardly registered the disorienting change of location. It took her way longer than it should have to realize that the firm column now pressed against her back was the smooth trunk of a tree. Her legs were still linked around Kurt’s back as he gripped her thighs. Her hands flew above her head, grasping for a branch to help support herself, but she stopped when she realized that he had her. _Goddess_ , did he _ever_  have her- those large, strong hands supported her weight and held her legs up and apart, and that tail was just _everywhere_ \- around her waist, over her thigh, between her legs... She can feel him lining himself up, as well as his teeth grazing her jawline. She catches his gaze out of the corner of her eye. He’s waiting for permission. He always waits for permission. She threw her arms around his shoulders, digging her nails in, pulling him to her as he sank into her.

After all her talk about having privacy, Ororo would not have noticed if a herd of elephants were to wander by. And any hope of discretion was dashed by the completely shameless sounds they both made. In her defense, she was pretty sure people only fucked like this in trashy romance novels. She tightened her legs around his waist, seeking more of what was already so deep, so unrestrained. The sound of his ragged breathing at her neck stopped only when he took her earlobe between his teeth. She cried out in shock and pleasure, raking her nails up his shoulder blades when her climax hit her almost without warning. Her head tipped back and rolled across the trunk of the tree, eyes closed, and he quickly released her earlobe to kiss her. She twisted her fingers in his hair, pulling maybe a little too hard, deepening the kiss with her tongue. He came seconds later, moaning directly into her open mouth.

Stiffly, and a little awkwardly, he set her back down on the ground, her toes sinking into the soft layers of dead leaves and pine needles. After a quick look around confirmed the coast was still clear, he teleported them back to the blanket. She immediately lay down, stretching her arms out, lounging in the sun, spent and contented. He sat cross legged at her side, his tail tracing a pattern across her stomach, but his arms reaching for the kitbag. She cringed to herself as she watched him dig around inside it.

“Oh.” he muttered as he pulled out a single granola bar and two warm ‘fruit punch’ juice boxes.

“Hmm. I may have neglected certain aspects of this ‘picnic.’” she admitted, with a guilty half-smile.

He attempted a stern side-glance, until they both burst into laughter, and he fell into her arms, kissing her head.

******

Scott and Jean were making out in the driver’s seat of the car, with Jean sitting across Scott’s lap and the warm afternoon breeze flowing through the open windows. Without breaking the kiss, Jean reach down between the seat and the door, fumbling momentarily until she found the lever she was seeking. She pulled it, and then laughed out loud as Scott yelped when the seat swung back. She turned in his grip, facing him and bringing herself up to straddle his thighs before sitting back in his lap. He ran both hands up the hem of her skit, but turned his head a split-second before she leaned down to kiss him again. He stared off into the direction of the orchard, and then in the direction of the road.

“They’re, uh…sure taking a while…” he commented as Jean rolled her eyes in frustration.

“They’re not gonna sneak up on us, oh my God.” Jean pointed out, _again_ , with her arms crossed. “Me and ‘Ro have an _agreement_.” He glanced again towards the path that led back to the road. “And no one else can sneak up on us either! If anyone approaches, I’ll psychically sense them in plenty of time for us to get decent. Stop being paranoid!”

He leaned back in the seat, stammering slightly, struggling to find the words to describe his unease.

“Come on…” she soothed, running her hands down his chest, “I just though you’d like if we had some time to ourselves, especially given that you have a thing for cars-”

“I don’t have a _thing_ for cars!” Scott blurted.

“Uh, yeah you do!”

“No I don’t!”  

“It’s okay! Everyone’s got some kinda little quirk or something, it’s not a big deal…”

Scott decided not to argue further, and just gave an annoyed shrug.

“In fact-” Jean started with a smile, “at one point I was considering giving you road head, but the girls talked me out of it.”

Scott sat in stunned silence for a beat. “Well, good thing they did. That sounds very risky.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t my best idea.” Jean admitted.

“I mean, even a _minor_  fender-bender…” Scott argued before trailing off with a wince.

“Uh-huh. I know. I had this conversation already.”

“And, like, I’m a decent driver, but, like, everyone has limits. I even turn the radio down when I’m parallel-parking, so I don’t know if I could guarantee-”

“Like I said, Scott- me and the girls covered this.”

Scott sat up a little more, lowering his voice. “Plus, Alex told me once about this guy on his basketball team, who’s step-brother’s girlfriend’s brother was in his Corvette, and his girl decided to go down on him, and a fuckin’ _rabbit_   _jumps out_  in front of the car-”

“Okay, okay, I got it.” Jean interrupted, holding both hands up. She sat up on her knees, smiling to herself as she pulled off the thin, loose-fitting button-up shirt she had worn over a low-cut tank top, and tossed it to the side. “I just thought we could have some fun in this completely stationary vehicle.”

Scott laughed at his own expense as she resettled herself in his lap, leaning down to kiss him again. He placed his hands on her waist, running them over the soft, stretchy material while she threaded her fingers though his hair. She sat up slightly, tugging the material of her tank top down, leaving her bra plainly visible.

“Whoa-” Scott breathed, as he watched her sit upright and run both hands back through her hair. “So, this is the green bra, right?”

She laughed. “Yes. This is the famous green bra.”

He moved his hands up her body, over the delicate lace of the bra, feeling the soft, pliant flesh underneath. “It’s, ah…yeah, it’s a really nice bra.” She gasped when he sat up, too- kissing the tops of her breasts and resting his forehead on her collarbone. He slipped his fingertips behind the lacy cup of the bra, pushing it down to free one breast before kissing and nibbling it, too. She rolled her hips in his lap, feeling his erection underneath the denim, and raked her fingers through his hair as she clutched his head to her chest with a sigh.   

“You know, after our Truth-Or-Dare game last night, I promised myself I would never let myself be unprepared, um…undergarment-wise” Jean said idly, with her eyes closed.

Scott managed an affirmation-sounding grunt, his head still at her chest.

“-Which is why I’m also not wearing any panties.” she added matter-of-factly.

She burst into laughter again when his head snapped up to look at her. She didn’t need to see his eyes to know what his expression must look like.

“Oh my God. You’re perfect.” he muttered under his breath, and she shook her head before leaning down to kiss him.

******  

“I mean…it’s _okay_ …”

“What do you mean it’s just ‘okay?’”

“Like…what’s with all the mushrooms?”

“They’re magic mushrooms.”

“And that short ugly guy with the beard?”

“I think that’s a gnome.”

“A _what_?”

“Kinda like an elf, I guess? Or a dwarf?”

“ _Why_?”

“Shit, I dunno, Jubes. All the artists in the sixties and seventies were into drugs and fantasy stuff. If I had a dollar every time I saw a dragon airbrushed on the side of a dude’s van…”

Jubilee, laying on her back with her arms behind her head on Peter’s bed, shrugged. “The colors are nice, I guess.”

Peter, also laying on his bed, turned to her and gave a serious nod. “Thank you.”

He hopped up off the bed, quickly flicking off the blacklight lamp and opening the blinds on his windows. His magnificent blacklight posters returned to being just regular posters. Jubilee sat up, sighing with boredom and picking at the nail polish on her toes. She jerked her head towards the yard. “You think the rest of them are back from picking apples yet?” Peter shot her a glance and she grinned. “Oh, I’m sorry- ‘picking apples.’” she reiterated, complete with corny finger-quotes.

“No sign of them!” Peter called back, and flung himself back on the bed. “They should be back soon, though. It can’t take that long to do whatever the fuck they’re doing.”

Jubilee burst into giggles. “Do you think it’s, like, always been a euphemism? Like, some old chick is like ‘Oh, I met my Gerald while we were apple-picking…’” she started, affecting a wavering old-lady-ish tone, “But turns out that’s just old-timey code for blowing a guy in an open field?”

Peter chuckled along, but they soon fell silent again. Jubilee went back to picking at her nail polish while Peter swung his legs off the edge of the bed repeatedly while making a clicking sound on his teeth with his tongue.

“I mean, we could…go check it out…” Jubilee said, quietly and tentatively. “If we got nothing better to do.”      

Peter tried to look nonchalant. “If you want. Doesn’t matter to me.” He sat up and looked over to her. “Maybe they’d even like our help, I dunno.”

Jubilee raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Pretty sure they don’t need our help!”

Peter jumped off the bed again, making a show of stretching his back and shoulders. “Apple picking’s hard work. You _really_  gotta put your back into it.”

“You’d know all about it, I’m sure.” Jubilee got off the bed, stepping back into her glittery pink jelly-style sandals.

“Plus, there’s a bunch of farms out that way. If we get bored checking on those losers, I’ll go find you a baby duck.” Peter offered, with a quick finger-gun motion.

“Aw!” Jubilee cooed.

“So are we on, or what?” Peter questioned, holding his arms out.

Jubilee stepped behind him, hopping up onto his back and wrapping her arms around his neck and legs around his waist piggy-back style. “Fuck yeah, hit it!” she exclaimed gleefully, before thrusting one arm over his shoulder and towards the door, pointing the way. “Heigh-ho, Silver, away!”

Peter’s expression straightened and his arms dropped to his sides. He tipped his head back toward Jubilee’s still-grinning face. “We talked about that, and we agreed you weren’t gonna do it.”

Jubilee scoffed and patted his shoulder. “Whatever, man. Time’s a wastin’”

******

Kurt and Ororo sat together on their picnic blanket, quietly enjoying the breeze, the warmth of the sun, and the feel of each other’s skin. Ororo was mostly situated in his lap, one leg on either side of his waist, running her hands idly over his chest and shoulders. He kept his arms linked loosely around her waist, but his tail lazily traced the curve of her breast. With a small sigh she fell forward, settling her head on his shoulder. He tightened his arms around her, looking down at her, before gasping softly.

“Oh…you have- let me get that…” he stammered with a cringe as he picked wooden debris and bits of bark off the skin of her back. “Sorry.”

She huffed a small laugh. “If you could see what _I_  did to _your_  back with my nails, you wouldn’t apologize.”

He glanced down with a shy half-smile. “Fair enough.”

She turned her gaze to the scars on his chest, tracing her fingertip over the intricate lines. One, in particular caught her eye. Located just below his breastbone, it lacked the curving grace of those around it. The lines were thicker, the pattern choppy and stilted. She felt around it, noting that it even felt stiffer. “This one is different.” she remarked curiously.

She felt him nod. “ _Ja_ , well…that was the first one. The only one I didn’t do.”

“What was it for?”

He laughed nervously and hesitated. “It’s a really long story.”

She decided to drop it and moved her attention to one on his bicep instead. “Well, I haven’t seen that you’ve obtained any new ones. At least not since we’ve been together.”

He gave a long sigh, and chewed his lip for a beat before responding. “There was a time in my life when I would have felt like I had to...” he explained carefully, before taking a breath. “But being with you has always felt like the most natural thing in the world.”

She sat up straight, cupping the side of his face with a warm, knowing smile. “That’s because it is.” He put his hand over hers, turning his head slightly to kiss her wrist. She traced her fingertips through his hair and over his pointed ear, ducking down to place a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. She wrapped her arms loosely around his neck as he returned the kiss, slow and sweet.

They continued like that, easy and unrushed, for a few moments until she felt his cock stir to life again against her inner thigh.

“Again?!” she gasped, affecting a mock-scandalized tone, while shooting him an impish grin. He shrugged and looked away bashfully. She brought his face back towards her with a hand on his chin. “I’m starting to think I’ve created a monster…” she mused, her voice low.

To her surprise, he sat up straighter, gathering both her hands in his. “No, Ororo, “ he started, plain and serious. “I think you’ve created a man.”

She paused, unsure what he meant, and furrowed her brow. He noted this, and took a deep breath, securing his grip on her hands and looking to her, eyes wide and vulnerable.

“For most of my life, I would never have thought that I could be…any woman’s man. But since we’ve been together, you’ve shown me such kindness, such patience- I don’t want to think about what my life would be like if I had never met you.” he explained, quiet and sincere. He paused to take a breath and swallowed hard. “ _Ich liebe dich_ , Ororo.”

The hot flash over her face is matched only by the twisting in her chest. She curses herself internally for not having anticipated this, and not knowing how to respond. She wants to kiss him. She wants to laugh in his face. When she was younger, people routinely jumped in and out of her world before she could even memorize their full name, let alone develop serious affection for them. But Kurt had, in a relatively short period of time, intricated himself into her life so completely that she hadn’t noticed until she felt the hollowness of almost losing him. What happened to her? When she was on her own, she was always ten steps ahead. Now, the best she can do is an airy laugh.

“And me without my German-English dictionary.”

He looked down, a shy smile on his face, and ran his fingers over her hands affectionately. “Oh, hush. You know what it means.”

She took a deep breath and decided to just go for it. “Kurt, these last few months have been incredible. I don’t know if I’ve ever been this happy.” Their hands are still held between them, and he kept his gaze shyly averted. His tail wound itself around her middle again. “When the girls and I first made those bets, I could not have anticipated the way that I feel-”

“A bet?” Kurt blurted, head snapping up to look at her. His expression is neutral, but his eyes bore into her. “Was there a bet about us being together?”

Goddess, no.

“Oh, no! Nothing serious. The girls and I just made some friendly wagers back in the spring.” Ororo hurriedly explained.

Kurt dropped her hands from his, and his tail swiftly whipped back behind him. His brow furrowed as his mind raced through the implications of what she had said. “This entire time-”

“No! No no no.” she soothed, holding her hands up. “They ended weeks ago!” She made a grasp for his shoulders, but he pulled back from her reach, before quickly grabbing her waist so he could get out from under her. She watched in stunned panic as he frantically tried to get back into his clothes, rapidly and aggressively pulling his pants on, as if he only just now realized his nudity.

“Kurt, please! Sit back down! We need to talk about his.” she pleaded.

He only shook his head rapidly, refusing to look at her while he fastened his belt. “So- and this is just a wild guess-” he started, voice already starting to shake. “To finish these bets, you had to do things. Physical things. With me.” He cast her the briefest side-glance, and she had never seen him so angry. “Am I close?”   

She grabbed her sundress, and fumbled with the fabric, trying to find the right way to pull it over her head. “Please, give me a minute! Let me explain-”

“How much was it for?” he demanded, standing stock-still, staring her down, with his jaw set and his shirt clutched in his hand. His tail thrashed wildly against the grass.

She shook her head as her eyes started to sting. “I don’t-”

“HOW MUCH, ORORO?”

“Around fifteen dollars.” she whispered.

He turned away, covering his mouth with his hand. “ _Sogar_ Stefan _fand mich mehr wert_.” he muttered under his breath. He pulled his shirt over his head, weakly pushing his arms through the sleeves as he stared off into the distance.

Ororo clutched her hands together, but didn’t dare approach him. “Don’t leave. I-”

She was cut off by the sound of a weary, agonized groan as he pressed his face into his hands. “I can’t believe I let this happen.” he said, quiet and defeated. “I trusted you.”

She reached for him but grasped nothing but black smoke and emptiness.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is from Journey's "Wheel In The Sky" (1978). It's a total jam and is unironically one of my favorite songs. The song "Take Me home, Country Roads" by John Denver (1971) is also featured. It's not as bad as Scott and Jean are making it sound. 
> 
> Please note that I, personally, have no strong opinion about apple pie. I like any dessert I didn't have to cook for myself. 
> 
> Also, sorry for fucking everything up with this chapter. Especially since it looks like there might be two more chapters, total, after this one. And especially since the next chapter is just going to be Peter and Jubilee playing with a family of ducks that they found. (That last part isn't set in stone.)


	40. You Can Go Your Own Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After last chapter's disaster, everyone tries to see if they can un-fry an egg.
> 
> Except Raven. She has a pretty swell afternoon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of running around and talking in this chapter. Small amount of sex. Mostly feelings.

Jean threw her hair back with one hand, pitching forward to grip the frame of the open car window with the other.

“Oh God, ah-”

Her eyes are clenched shut, tank top and bra pulled down and skirt up around her waist as she rolled her hips in Scott’s lap, riding him hard. He gripped her thighs, following the desperate motion of her body. She was close, they were both _so_  close. He grit his teeth, just trying to hold on a little bit longer-

“Holy shit. Nice tits!”

The sound of Jubilee’s voice instantly destroyed any amorous mood. Scott and Jean both snapped their heads towards the unwelcome sound, and were greeted by the sight of Peter and Jubilee standing outside the car. Jubilee grinned devilishly, while Peter observed with relative calm, nodding with his hand on his chin.

Jean screamed and crossed her arms over her chest, as both she and Scott scrambled to cover themselves.

“What the fuck are you doing here?!” Jean demanded shrilly.

“Oh, just checking to see if you guys needed any help with the apples.” Jubilee mused casually. “Looks like you got everything under control, though…”

“Peter, I am going to BEAT YOUR FUCKING ASS!” Scott yelled, too angry to even look as he struggled to button his fly.

“Pfft. In order to beat my ass, Summers, you’d have to catch my ass.” Peter replied with a disinterested shrug.

Scott stammered, red-faced and enraged, as Peter lowered his goggles and wrapped an arm around Jubilee’s waist.

“May as well see what the other two are up too…” he muttered to himself as Jubilee laughed and threw her arm around his shoulders.  

“NO. You leave them THE FUCK ALONE!” Jean shouted, pointing at them accusingly.

“Chill, Jean! It’s not like we’re gonna try and join in or anything.” Jubilee replied. “We’re not into that kinky four-way stuff.”

“Arg!” was all Jean could manage as Peter and Jubilee sped away.

******

“So if we stay behind some trees, they probably won’t be able to see us.” Peter whispered to Jubilee as they were trying to sneak up on Kurt and Ororo.

“Yep, that’s how eyes work.” Jubilee pointed out sarcastically. “I mean, we shouldn’t get too excited. Knowing them, they’re probably doing some kinda lame, not-sexy stuff like math homework or eating a salad.”

Peter shrugged and they walked carefully over the curve of a small hill, making a point of staying behind some shrubbery at the treeline. In the distance, they spotted Kurt and Ororo on their picnic blanket, naked and very close to one another.

“Ohmigawd!” Jubilee squeaked, struggling to withhold laughter. “I _love_  when I’m wrong!”

“Wow.” was all Peter could say as he squinted into the distance.

Jubilee held her hand above her eyes to shade them, peering at the oblivious couple. “Wish I had brought my fucking binoculars!” Peter chuckled quietly and shook his head. “What? ‘Ro literally _will not shut up_  about Kurt’s dick, so I gotta see it for myself.” She elbowed his side gently. “Plus, I would have let you borrow them.”  

“Nope! I’m not fallin’ for that!” Peter stated, crossing his arms. “If we’re gonna be a couple, my other-naked-lady-viewing days are over!”

Jubilee scoffed and shot him a look. He was undeterred. She elbowed him again, harder this time, and sighed. “For the record, I wouldn’t give a fuck if you checked out other girls’ titties. I’m always checkin’ out other girl’s titties.”

“Oh?”

“Yep. I’m not even sure why. It’s not like I’m jealous, or even that it’s a sexual thing. I think my eyes just recognize greatness.”

“Huh. Fair enough.”

From afar, they soon noted an increase in commotion on the picnic blanket.

“Oh-ho! Looks like things are heating up!” Peter commented giddily.

A few seconds ticked by, and they both watched as the exchange between Kurt and Ororo played out.

“Um…doesn’t really look like they’re heating up in a good way…” Jubilee said uncomfortably.

They watched, cringing silently, up until the point where Kurt teleported away, leaving Ororo alone and distraught in the middle of the field.

“She looks upset. We should go help.” Peter stated, pulling down his goggles again. Before Jubilee could argue, they both instantly appeared at the side of the picnic blanket.

“Aah!” Ororo screamed in shock, bringing her arms up defensively.

“It’s okay! We saw the whole thing!” Jubilee attempted to calm her.

“Aah!” She was not calmed at all.

“You guys get in a fight or something?” Peter asked, as he started gathering up the picnic blanket by shoving it into a pile with his foot.

Ororo stood, straightening out her sundress and frantically shoving things into her kitbag. She glanced up at Jubilee. “He found out about the bets.” she explained in a hushed tone.

Jubilee furrowed her brow in thought as Peter shoved his hands in his pocket and tilted his head at Jubilee. “What bets?”

“Oh! Um…” Jubilee turned to Peter, and carefully explained, “So, me and the girls made a few bets back in the spring, before we started hooking up and all that.” Peter nodded along. “Like, for example, Jean made a bet with me that because you’re super-fast, you’d also be super-fast at, uh, other things. Which, um…if you recall…” she trailed of with a cringe.

Peter shrugged. “Huh, yeah. Makes sense.” He leaned a little closer and muttered quietly, “You told them it’s not always like that, though, right?”

“Oh, yeah! For sure!” Jubilee assured. “In fact, because of that, I only had to pay _half_  the money.”

“Sweet!” Peter exclaimed, and he and Jubilee high-fived.  

Ororo stood with her arms at her sides, watching the exchange with increasing frustration. “Anyway.” she stated abruptly. “He’s very upset and I have to find him. I don’t know where he went.”

Peter and Jubilee glanced at each other and Peter scratched his head. “Hmm. Knowing what people do and why they do them seems like a ‘Jean’ problem. Back to the car!”

******

Jean and Scott were idly hanging out in the car, listening to the radio and eating apples. They waited patiently for Kurt and Ororo to return, presumably after being harassed by Jubilee and Peter.

They both jumped in surprise, and Scott almost choked on a bite of apple when Ororo instantly appeared in the back seat of the car, followed a fraction of a second later by Jubilee and Peter. As the dust literally and figuratively settled, Scott opened his mouth to question the situation, only to be interrupted when Peter reached forward to pat his shoulder.  

“Pedal to the metal, my dude. We’re looking for a blue guy.”

Scott returned an exasperated shrug. Jean held up her hands and turned towards the back seat.

“Wait wait wait. Where’s Kurt?”

Jubilee cast her eyes conspicuously at Ororo and jerked her thumb towards her. Ororo frowned. “We got in a fight and he teleported away.” she admitted.

Jean shrugged. “Well, maybe he just wanted to clear his head for a minute. He might just come back on his own.”

“Un- _fucking_ -likely.” Peter commented, crossing his arms. “I didn’t hear what got said, but I do know that it pissed him off enough to leave even though he had, like, two-thirds of a boner.”  

Scott’s mouth dropped open and he spun towards Peter, scowling. “How _the fuck_  would you know that?” he snapped, clearly still angry about their previous encounter.  

Peter leaned back in the car seat, dangling his arm out the open car window. “Dude, I, like, straight-up _gawk_  at every naked person I see.”

Scott, only further enraged and probably embarrassed by this new information, gripped the steering wheel. “Well, could you _fucking_ ** _ **not**_**?”

Peter threw his head back and laughed. “Holy fuck, Summers, get over yourself! The only thing interesting about your naked body is the fact that you have a birthmark on the back of your left thigh.”

Scott gasped. “No, I don’t!” he yelled, practically vibrating with anger.

“Uh, hon? You do.” Jean interjected carefully. “Like, I know this really isn’t the time and that you don’t really wanna have this conversation, but he’s right.” Scott turned to stare at Jean in silent bewilderment. “I can show it to you later with a hand mirror. It’s just like a big freckle, babe, but it is there.”

“Can we go find Kurt, now, please?” Ororo asked quietly from the back seat.

Scott gave an aggravated groan and started the car, quickly putting it in gear and driving away from the orchard. Jean turned in her seat and gestured towards Ororo, her face serious.

“So, I’m guessing what happened is that he said, like, ‘I love you’ or something like that, and you panicked and said something stupid, and that’s why he left, right?”

Ororo stared, opened mouthed, before nodding quickly.

“And before anyone asks, no I didn’t read your mind to know that. You’re both just really predictable.” Jean panned her hands across the car, looking at the four other occupants. “You’re _all_ really predictable. And _totally fucking_  transparent. Just try to keep that in mind.”

“What I wanna know-” Jubilee mused suddenly, tilting her head towards Ororo, “is what kinda logic makes you respond to ‘I love you’ with ‘me and my gal pals made a bunch of bets about your dick.’”

Ororo gasped indignantly. “English is not my first language!”

“Oh, no!” Jubilee countered. “You don’t get to ‘ _No hablo ingles_ ’ your way out of this one, when you correct my grammar _fucking daily_!”

Ororo opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Scott. “You and the girls made a bunch of…sex bets?” he questioned Jean.

Jean held her hands up to explain, but was herself interrupted by Jubilee. “Take a fuckin’ chill pill, Scott. You got a blowjob out of it.”

Scott turned towards Jubilee, but was cut off by Peter. “So, ‘Ro, I figure this is basically like that time you smashed that guy’s nutsack-” he started explaining as he bounced his leg obnoxiously. “except this time, the organ you crushed was his heart.” Ororo laced her hands together on her lap, expression becoming more distraught by the second. Peter didn’t seem to notice, and continued unabated. “So, sure- he might curl into a ball and cry and maybe throw up a little _today_ …but once he realizes that getting over it is the only way he keeps getting laid, he’ll show up on your doorstep and forget the whole thing.”

“Uh, yeah- I don’t think so.” Scott spoke up as he flicked on the turn signal at an intersection. “Like, do you not remember the amount of time we spent convincing him that this or some _similarly ridiculous_  scenario _wasn’t_  gonna happen?” he said sternly to Peter, who only shrugged in response. Scott sighed and shook his head as he turned the car before motioning his head towards Jean. “Nice one, guys. Now he probably feels like a fucking circus freak.”

“Ugh. Don’t look at me. It was Jubes’ idea.” Jean argued.

“What? Nuh-uh! You started it!” Jubilee shot back. Ororo watched the exchange, with her hand on her mouth, looking as if she were about to cry.

Peter angled his head towards the open window his arm still dangled out of, letting the breeze ruffle his hair. “I just hope he doesn’t run off and start cutting himself again. That’d be, uh…kinda a bummer, I guess.” he remarked casually over the sound of Jean and Jubilee’s budding argument. Everyone else stared at him in a disturbed silence, which was broken only when Ororo finally burst into tears.

“Oh, Goddess, what have I done?” she cried into the palms of her hands, and ignored Jubilee’s attempts to calm her.

Scott scowled and slammed his palm against the steering wheel. “Peter, _what the fuck_  are you even doing here?” he demanded angrily. “You’re contributing _nothing_ and making everything _worse_!”

“I dunno.” Peter replied with a disinterested shrug. “Bored, mostly.”

The breaks squealed as the car came to a stop on the shoulder of the road.

“OUT.” Scott ordered, without looking in Peter’s direction. Peter rolled his eyes and stepped out of the car, turning back to it with his hand still on the open door.

He ducked down and looked at Jubilee as she unbuckled her seat belt and scooted into the seat he had been occupying. “You comin’?”

She leaned out of the car and grabbed the door handle. “Nah, I’m good!” she called out before she pulled it shut. Peter stood motionless as the car peeled away, shutting his eyes in the thick cloud of dust, grit, and exhaust.

Once the car was back on the road, Jubilee twirled her pigtail around her finger and patted Ororo’s knee. “So, now that he’s gone, we can come up with an actual plan!” Ororo peeked at her cautiously while Jean shot her a skeptical side-glare.

“So here’s what you’re gonna do-” Jubilee started explaining authoritatively, hands held out. “Once we find him, you’re gonna tell him you love him. Doesn’t matter if you don’t. You’re _really_  gonna sell the idea that you do. That oughta shut him up for now.” Ororo had already started leaning away from Jubilee, narrowing her eyes at her. “So then, everything’s all great for, like, a week or so. Then! Next time he does something that annoys you even a _little bit_ , you _freak the fuck out_  at him and dump his ass!” Jubilee paused for a reaction. Ororo frowned and Jean shook her head with a weary sigh. “I mean, sure, he’ll be upset for, like, a week or so...” Jubilee continued with a casual hair toss. “But this way, he can’t be mad at you, because _he’s the one_  who fucked up and got dumped!” Jubilee relaxed back in her seat, crossing her arms with a smug grin. “And the best part? If you wait a couple months, you can probably start fucking him again. Pretty sweet plan, right?”

 

Peter lazily made his way up the side of the road, in no real rush to get home. He stopped to pick up a weird-looking bottle cap when he spotted a tell-tale cloud of road dust up in the distance. He raced to the location just in time to see Jubilee get out of the car, and the car speed away. He watched her flail her arms around to disperse the dust and then attempt to wipe dirt off of her clothes before she turned around and spotted him. She waved her arms over her head, and he waved back before running to her side.   

“They kick you out, too?” he asked sympathetically.

“Yeah.”

“Wanna lift?”

Yeah.”   

 

Once the car was back on the road, Scott whispered “Is she, like, a psychopath or something?” to Jean, who gave a bewildered shrug in response. Jean turned in her seat to face Ororo, who was now staring at her hands laced together on her lap.

“So, even though Kurt’s a teleporter, we know he can only go places he’s already been. And he’s not gonna want to hang out in public or anything like that, so really, that means he’s likely either at home or at church.” Jean explained while Ororo nodded along. “So we’ll check home first. If he’s not there, we’ll swing by the church, and maybe the dumpster behind the liquor store if we still can’t find him.”

“Okay.” Ororo replied quietly. She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I really do care about him.”

Jean reached out and placed her hand over Ororo’s. “Of course. We know. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“I didn’t want to hurt him.”

Scott gave a heavy sigh and rested his head on his fist, with his elbow propped against the frame of the open car window. “But you did, though.”

******

“Took ya long enough! Assholes!”

Jean, Ororo, and Scott were greeted by the sight of Peter and Jubilee standing next to the car’s designated parking space. Scott opted to take the high road and ignore Jubilee’s goading, as well as Peter’s obnoxious gum chewing.

“Peter, you and me are gonna go check out Kurt’s church, and the girls are-”

“Way ahead of ya, bro.” Peter interrupted. He gestured between himself and Jubilee. “Me and Jubes already swung by the church out while we were waiting on you slowpokes.” He leaned back against the concrete wall of the garage and set his foot up against it. “They’re havin’ a…what’s the thing where they dunk the baby?”

“A baptism?” Jean offered dryly.

“Yeah. That.” Peter confirmed, snapping his fingers and pointing at Jean. “Tons of people around. Doubt he’s there.”

“Have you checked around the house?” Ororo asked immediately. “His room? The library?”

Jubilee scratched her head. “We poked our heads around and called his name and stuff. No sign of him.”

Scott crossed his arms. “So, Peter- we’re gonna check the house _again_ , but _harder_  this time.” He turned his head towards Jean. “And you guys-”

“Actually, hon, I have a plan.” Jean said authoritatively. “Follow me, girls!”

******

Raven stretched out on one of the reclining poolside deck chairs, raising an eyebrow as she turned a page of ‘ _Tropic of Cancer’_ while taking a sip of lemonade. When the commotion of the three female X-Men approaching her caught her attention, she rolled her eyes and threw her book down in frustration.

“What? What is it? Don’t you guys have better things to do than bug me?” she demanded immediately.

“Have you seen Kurt?” Jean asked, after coming to a stop at the foot of Raven’s chair.

“Uh, yeah. In class this morning.” Raven answered flatly.

“But not since then?” Jubilee followed, peering around Jean’s shoulder.

“Was he not with you guys?”

“We got in a fight.” Ororo admitted. “We don’t know where he went.”

Raven rolled her eyes again with an aggravated scoff, and sat up straighter in the deck chair. “Ugh. Okay. So, before we get to into anything, Jean, could you take a little-” Raven flitted her fingers around her own head. “mental peek at Hank? Just to see what he’s up to?”

The girls huddled closer, pulling up deck chairs and sitting as Jean closed her eyes and pressed her fingertips to her temple. As she concentrated, Raven tipped her head towards Jubilee and Ororo. “So, this morning, after Hank managed to _peel himself_  off my bathroom floor and _hose the liquor-stink off_ , he decided that his task for the day was to follow me around.” she explained with thinly-veiled annoyance. “I made the mistake of asking him about the abilities of one of the newly-enrolled students, and he goes off on this _fucking tangent_  about the difference between _con_ vergent and _di_ vergent evolution…” She waved her hands around, rolling her eyes. “So he’s making himself lunch while going on and on about fucking _bat wings_ and _flippers_  and not even looking at me while he’s blabbering away. So I just grabbed a book and walked out here. That was like five minutes ago.”

Jean, eyes still shut and hand still at her temple, scowled. “He’s talking…to _himself_? About _cephalopod eyeballs_?”  

“Good. He can keep doing that.” Raven replied. She pointed at the three younger women around her. “Consider this my lesson of the day, girls- Just because you like a guy doesn’t mean you have to put up with his bullshit all the time.” Ororo and Jean glanced at each other while Jubilee nodded along seriously.

“Please.” Ororo said, trying to reorient the conversation. “We just need to know where Kurt would go if he were upset.”

Raven sighed and picked her drink up, now sitting cross-legged on the chair. “So, I’m going to go out on a limb and assume that this was some sort of romantic disagreement, and not like you ate his leftovers or something like that?”

Ororo nodded frantically, and Raven opened her mouth to respond, but was interrupted by Jean. “We actually have a very strict leftover-labeling system to prevent those types of conflicts.” she explained academically.

Raven stared Jean down for a beat, stone-faced. “Oh, good. I was worried about that.” she replied, dryly sarcastic. Jean looked away, embarrassed. “Anyways- as I was saying…” Raven began again, holding her hands out as she explained. “So here’s something that I really should have included in your Sex-Ed class, but I didn’t, because I didn’t wanna be seen as ‘calling anyone out,’ but really, it’s as good of advice as any and probably would have come in handy, in retrospect…”

She paused to make sure that all three young women were paying rapt attention. “So here it is- Don’t fuck teleporters. Just don’t. They just…Like, I’ve known maybe four of them in my _entire life_ , and they’ve all _annoyed the shit_  out of me. It’s just not worth the massive pain in the ass.”

When she got nothing but confused stares back from her audience, Raven decided to elaborate. “Essentially, teleporters do not follow basic social rules of engagement when it comes to interpersonal conflict. Now, what does this mean? Have you ever been in an argument and then came up with a perfect comeback hours later in the shower? Teleporters do this, too. Except, when they do, they pop into your bedroom at three AM to yell ‘And another thing!’ at you.” Raven punctuated by jabbing her finger mock-accusingly towards the girls.

“But the real kicker is when it comes to any scenario they don’t wanna be in. Because they have the ability to leave as soon as a conversation becomes heated or difficult, they just _do_. The idea of _enduring_  an uncomfortable discussion just doesn’t occur to them. Why would it? Good luck having a healthy relationship with someone who is suddenly ten miles away anytime someone tries to tell them something they don’t wanna hear.”

Ororo crossed her arms sternly. “This really isn’t helping us right now.”

“Ah! I’m getting to that part.” Raven quickly replied, snapping her fingers at Ororo. “So, since you’re learning this the hard way, you’re already at the ‘Where did my teleporter go?’ stage. I’ve been down this road a few times, and this is how it always goes-” She straightened up in her chair and took a big drink of lemonade. “Once you’ve said or done something that your teleporter has taken offence to, and they’ve ‘BAMF’ed away or hopped in a portal or whatever-” she rambled casually, rolling her eyes and flitting her hands about, “your first instinct may be to try and track them down or contact them. This is a rookie mistake. This is exactly what they want.”

Jean had crossed her arms with a skeptical look while Ororo listened warily with her hand over her mouth. Jubilee had obtained a pen and was jotting notes on a paper napkin.

“See, what they’re actually doing is popping around the continent, sulking and hoping that you’ll miss them. Trying to reach out or apologize just plays into their hand. So what you’re gonna do is this-”

The girls edged closer, and Jubilee clicked her pen a few times. Raven opened her mouth to continue her thought, but was interrupted as Hank peeked out from the open patio door.

“Oh, hey, Raven! Hey girls!” he called out jovially. “I just turned around after making my sandwich and-”

“A ’girl meeting’ is in _fucking_  session, Hank!” Raven snapped as she gestured towards the three young women around her. Hank quickly disappeared behind the door again, mumbling an apology.  

Raven scoffed and shook her head. Jubilee elbowed Jean to whisper “Doctor Jekyll, Mister _Hung_!” to her with a devilish smirk, and Jean was forced to suppress a laugh.

“Anyway.” Raven stated before looking pointedly at Ororo. “What you’re going to do is _nothing_. Absolutely _nothing_. You’re going to go about your business like you don’t give a fuck. Because, ladies, men are essentially dogs. They only run because they think someone’s chasing them. Once you stop paying them attention, all they wanna do is get into your lap. So if you _actually_  want him to come back, that’s what you’re gonna do. I ****guarantee****  you, once he runs out of clean clothes or heartburn medicine, he’s gonna show up on your doorstep with a mid-range quart of vodka and gas station flowers. And you’re gonna take your _sweet time_  answering the door. Make him _fucking sweat_  before putting on your _best set of tits_ -” Raven paused her tangent to hold her hands out around her chest, “throwing open the door and demanding to know what took him so goddamn long.”  

Jean and Ororo exchanged bewildered glances while Jubilee continued to dutifully jot down notes. “Vodka? Heartburn medicine?” Jean questioned.

“Most of us only have one set of breasts.” Ororo pointed out.

Raven gave an annoyed shrug. “Well, they’ll probably do.” When the three girls continued to stare silently back, she sighed and took another drink. “Okay, so, maybe don’t get caught up on the details. The take-home message is not to stress about it right now. Maybe stress about it if you haven’t heard from him in around ten days to two weeks.”

Ororo gasped. “Ten days! That’s insane! We-”

“So here’s what I don’t get-” Jubilee interrupted, pen in-hand. “You can ramble on about how much you hate teleporters, but we know Kurt only exists because you banged that other red one.” Raven crossed her arms sternly, waiting for Jubilee to finish her thought. “Why were you even with Kurt’s dad if they bug you so much?”

“Jubilee, we don’t have time for this!” Ororo whispered harshly.

“Shush. She said we have, like, two weeks.”

“We DO NOT have two weeks. We-”

“That’s a fair question.” Raven conceded, cutting Ororo off. She glanced upwards in thought, wringing her hands. “You see, when you’re older, you’ll find that…I mean, one thing I’ve learned over the years is…hmm.” The girls jumped when she suddenly slapped her hands down on her knees. “You know what? Fuck it. You’re all big girls so I’m not gonna sugarcoat it.” Jubilee quickly moved closer, listening eagerly. “The reason I was with Kurt’s dad was because that dick belonged in a ****fucking museum****.” Jubilee hummed gleefully as she continued to jot notes. “It was like one of the eight wonders of the world. Like, I can’t even describe…” Raven trailed off, biting her lip and shaking her head. “And on top of that, he was fucking _ripped_! Like, absolutely _stacked_! I have no idea how Kurt ended up being all skinny, that shit must skip a generation or something…Oh! And another this is that Az _really_  knew how to dress. And he always smelled, like, _amazing_. I mean, sure, he could hardly fucking talk and was essentially a serial-killer-for-hire, but where there’s a will, there’s a way, right?”

“Right!” Jubilee responded emphatically, nodding along. Ororo raked her hands through her hair in frustration.  

Jean glanced towards Ororo sympathetically. “Sorry. This was a waste of time.”

Raven scoffed and picked her book back up. “ _Looking for him here_  is a waste of time. He’s probably half-way to Albuquerque by now.”

“Wait!” Jean blurted, pressing her hand to her temple again. “I just just got a- like, a psychic glimpse of him. He’s in his room!” Ororo stood immediately and turned towards the door to the mansion, but froze when Jean held her hand up to her. “No, wait! He moved, he’s in the library now. Shit! He did it again, he’s in Hank’s lab! Now he’s- Fuck! Hold still!”

“See?” Raven said, stretching out on her deck chair again and opening her book. “It’s annoying. You’re annoyed right now.”       

“Got him! He’s…on the roof?” Jean said quizzically, ignoring Raven.

“Can you keep him there?” Ororo whispered tentatively, clasping her hands together.

Jean slumped, and cast Ororo a regretful look. “’Ro, I can’t hold him against his will.”

Ororo pursed her lips, nodding slightly, eyes pleading. “But what about what Peter said?” she asked, barely audible.

Jean looked down, frowning and shaking her head, before taking a deep breath. “Fine.” she stated sternly. “But we make this _fucking quick._ ”

Jean and Ororo quickly ran off in the direction Jean indicated. Jubilee watched them go, and then scooted closer to where Raven was reclining. She motioned her hand over the notes she had scrawled over the napkin.

“So this is fuckin’ phenomenal.” she said adoringly. Raven just smiled smugly in response. “You should write a book.”

“You know what?” Raven replied wistfully, relaxing and folding her arm behind her head. “You’re completely right.”  

******    

Jean and Ororo landed lightly on the rooftop, having used their respective powers to fly up from the yard below. They cautiously scanned the area around them, and found nothing.

“You said he wouldn’t be able to teleport away.” Ororo said, squinting at the vast area of the mansion’s huge roof.

“Oh, he’s definitely up here. I just can’t see him.” Jean confirmed.

“There!” Ororo pointed into the distance, where the very tip of an errant tail caught the sunlight. Following it back to it’s owner seemed to suggest that Kurt had disappeared into the shadow cast by an old brick chimney. Ororo immediately moved to run to him, but was stopped when Jean held up a hand to her shoulder.

“Can I please have a minute first?” Jean asked. “He, uh…really, _really_  doesn’t want to talk to you right now.”

Ororo stiffened for a split second, and then sighed and nodded. Jean made her way carefully over the uneven surface of the roof, stopping to lean on the rough brick of the chimney. Less than a foot away from him, she can just barely make out the shape of Kurt sitting in the chimney’s shadow, hugging his knees to his chest.

“Jean.” he said, quietly and plainly, without looking towards her. “Let go of me. Please.”

“I’ll consider it once you tell me what you’re doing on the roof.”

“I was in my room and Peter knocked on the door and startled me. I was just trying to find a place I could hide until he lost interest.” He doesn’t physically move, but telepathically she can sense him testing his ability to teleport again. “I just need to grab a few things, and then I can go.”

She moved slightly closer, raising an eyebrow. “Go where?”

He sighed, his frustration growing by the second. “I don’t know, Jean. I’ll figure it out as I go along.” When she neither responded or released him, he added, “Probably back to Europe. For a while, at least. I’ll be better off when I’m on my own.”

Jean couldn’t help but scoff. “No you won’t. You hate being alone.”

His head snapped up and he stared into her face, eyes wide and wild and bloodshot, brow furrowing as though he just couldn’t understand what he was seeing. “You _think_ that I can _live like this_?” he demanded to know, his voice a mix of seething pain and legitimate confusion. When she could not respond, he looked sternly away, picking at the mortar between the bricks. “I didn’t really know what to do with myself, after Ororo told me how things _actually were_. I went for a walk, to try and calm down. I prayed a lot. I thought for a moment that maybe I was being tested. I had been tested and I failed _completely_  and _immediately_  because I have a _weak_ and _envious_  heart. But really, I think things are much simpler than that. I think I just expect too much from people.”  

Jean put her face in her hands and sighed before sweeping her hair back. “Kurt, _please_ , just-” she started with pleading urgency, before taking a breath and trying to sound calm. “Can we please go inside and have a talk? I know that you’re hurt, but there are things you don’t understand.” She cautiously reached out with her foot and nudged his. “Besides, the traditional American way to deal with these sorts of emotions is actually eating ice cream and listening to Fleetwood Mac on repeat, so…”

Kurt gave a slight frown and shook his head. “ _Nein_. _You_  don’t understand. _Mein Bruder_  sold me for drug money. My last employer sedated me and stuffed me into a box. And yet I came here and expected to be treated differently for some reason?” He looks up at her, head tiled quizzically, before staring back at his knees, resettling his arms around them. “I’ve been sold three times, and each time, I’m worth a little less. If I stay here, there won’t be anything left.”

Jean slumped against the brick. “Oh my God, Kurt.” she breathed regretfully. “Please don’t talk like that.”

“Why not? It’s the truth.” he replied bitterly. “My _skin_  is _crawling_. I am so disgusted with myself. What difference does it make to you now? You all got what you wanted.”

Jean let herself slide down the side of the chimney, sitting at Kurt’s feet with her legs crossed in front of her. At this level, she can seem him a little clearer. “Well, one difference is that neither Peter or Scott knew anything about the bets at all, and would be really upset if you left.”

Kurt scoffed. “That’s ridiculous. They both put me up to _everything_.”    

Jean shrugged in frustration, glancing upward and tossing her hair behind her shoulder. “Yeah. That’s cuz they _like you_  and thought that would make you happy.” When he didn’t respond, she turned to face him better, hands held together in her lap. “And the other things is that the bets that we made…they weren’t like how you’re imagining them. The girls and I- we were all just either a little bit lonely, or a little bit self-conscious, and just came up with this idea to…I dunno…give ourselves a reason to take a few risks? I actually started it. By making a bet with Jubilee about getting with Peter.”

Kurt peeked up briefly with a skeptical huff.

“It’s true. And now they’re both like…um…” Jean trailed off with a cringe, moving her hands around to make up for her lack of words.

“The greatest romance of our generation?” Kurt offered, only slightly sarcastic.

Jean cracked a smile. “Ha. Yeah. Something like that.” She flattened out the pleats of her skirt before adding. “Ororo made a bet with me that Scott and I would, ah, _expand our repertoire_ …”

Kurt’s perked up, pausing in thought for a second, until his eyes went wide when he realized what she meant. “ _Mein Gott_! _That_  was Ororo’s fault, too?!”

“Okay, so- ‘fault’ is a difficult thing to assign in that kinda scenario.” Jean argued, holding her hands up.

“There was _so much yelling_  in the locker room that day, Jean.” Kurt replied sternly.

“It’s not ‘Ro’s fault if Scott and Peter can’t use their indoor voices.” Jean shot back, crossing her arms. Kurt gave a small, disinterested shrug, and Jean relaxed again. “But really, the most important thing you need to know is that Ororo never made a bet about you. Jubes and I did.”

Kurt dragged his hands down the sides of his face, flushing with embarrassment. “But obviously she had some part in it. She had to do something or tell you something.”

“Well, yes…” Jean conceded cautiously. “She did tell us some things. But really- I mean, you have a sister. You know how girls talk. It was never anything beyond what most friends would tell each other. It wasn’t anything to be embarrassed about, _especially_  when you consider the kinda things that Jubes says…” Jean glanced upwards, pressing her hands together. “Like, I’ve never seen Peter naked and I don’t intend to, but I’m _positive_  I could sculpt a striking likeness of his dick out of modeling clay.” she explained with a frown.

“ _Ja_ , we all know more about Peter than we’d like.” Kurt admitted. Jean returned a slight, cautious smile, and he sighed and looked away again. “Jean, Ororo and I were friends. Before all this. We worked well together, and enjoyed each other’s company. And she decided to twist that relationship into something else, for- for what, exactly? A couple dollars? A few laughs?”

“Kurt, ‘Ro got _absolutely nothing_  from being with you,” Jean explained plainly and seriously, with her hands laced together on her lap. “other than to be with you. Which was all she wanted to begin with.”

Kurt stared silently at his knees, wrapping his tail around them, and clutching the end of it with both hands. “You’ll forgive me if I have a hard time believing that.” he responded quietly.

Jean closed her eyes and gave a long, tired sigh before abruptly standing. “Well, it’s the truth. I can’t make you believe it.” She glanced upward, with her hand to her chin. “Well, _technically_ , I _could_ , but I’m not going to. I’m also not going to keep you here any more, if you don’t want to stay.” She smoothed out her skirt and walked to the edge of the roof. “I guess I’ll see you at dinner later. Hopefully. Maybe not. Up to you, I guess.” she stated, struggling to keep the emotion out of her voice, as she stepped off the edge and telekinetically lowered herself to the ground.

He watched Jean disappear over the edge of the building before pressing his face into his hands, taking a series of deep, shuddering breaths. He did not acknowledge the few footsteps behind him, nor did he do anything to avoid the warm body now pressed against his back, the arms wrapped around his chest, or the chin on his shoulder.

“ _Bitte_ , Ororo-” he whispered. “Don’t touch me. Just leave me alone.”

“No. I refuse.”

“Hmm.” He picked his head up, clutching his tail again. “I knew you were there, you know. The whole time Jean and I were talking. The wind doesn’t just change direction for no reason.”

“Good. Then you know I won’t let you go as easily.” He shifted his grip on his tail, saying nothing. She turned her head, resting the side of her face against his shoulder and sighed. “Kurt, what do I have to say? What do I have to do, to-”

“Anything you could have said or done, you already did back before I knew you were lying.” He’s trying to sound stern, but the underlying tremor in his voice is obvious.

“It was never a lie.” she insisted, a tinge desperate. “I know why this hurts you so much, but I need you to understand that it didn’t change how I acted when we were together, or how I feel about you.” He stiffens under her touch, but says nothing. “The hours we spent alone together- just talking, enjoying each other’s company, comforting each other…I know you can’t think that was meaningless.” Still, he gives nothing and so she leans into him more, tightening her arms around his chest and lowering her voice. “When I touched you, it was because I thought you were beautiful and I wanted you to feel how I felt about you. When I reached for you in the night, it was because I needed you.”

He let his head fall forward, resting on his forearms, and he sniffs quietly while rubbing his face with the back of his hand. “It was a mistake, though.” he whispered. “It was all a mistake and I can’t do it anymore. I’m sorry. I’m so tired.”

She slid her hands around his chest and up his back, gripping his shoulders and shaking them slightly. “No, you don’t get to be sorry. I’m the one who has to apologize this time.”

He huffed a small, humorless laugh. “And Jean just finished telling me how it was all her and Jubilation’s idea.”

“Well, that’s technically true. “ Ororo agreed tentatively. “But I knew about it. I encouraged it. I played along. And I didn’t tell you about it until it was far, far too late.” She turned her head until her forehead pressed to the nape of his neck. “I was lonely and intimidated by how different things are here. I didn’t think you would be interested in me. Jean and Jubilee were just trying to be supportive in their own way. And I know that this may be too much for you to take. I could have put a stop to it early on, and I didn’t. And that’s why I’m not here to tell you to forgive me or take me back. I can’t expect that from you. I’m only asking that you stay with the X-Men, here at the institute.” She rubbed his stiff shoulders and swallowed, taking a breath. “You can leave _me_. Just please don’t leave _us_.”  

He sniffed again, and let out a long, shaky sigh. “What difference would it make to you if I did?”

“I couldn’t stand it.” she replied immediately. She wrapped her arms around him again, spaying her fingers over his chest. “The idea of you, wandering alone in Europe or wherever. Just the stories you’ve told me, of what your life was like before…If you left, I’d never sleep again.” She turned the side of her face against his shoulder again, sighing softly as she let her body rest entirely against his. “Because I love you and I need you to be safe.”

He inhaled sharply, twisting around to stare at her, eyes narrowing as he searched her expression. He had released his grip on his tail, and it writhed over the shingles they sat on.

“And I do realize that if I had just said that earlier, our afternoon may have gone differently.” she added cautiously, just to break the silence.

His shoulders slumped and he looked down, but didn’t turn away from her. “Ororo, I don’t- I only said that because it was how I felt. I didn’t say it just to hear you parrot it back to me.”

“Oh, I know. I’m only saying it because it’s true. I don’t know if I could, otherwise.” she shifted so that she was facing him better, and caught his gaze for a split second before reaching out to take his hand in hers, holding it chastely on her lap. She tried to hide her surprise that he allowed this. “Kurt, a lot of this is actually very new for me. I, um…I’ve never loved a man before. Even when I think of my parents…I was so young when they died. I know they must have loved me, but I can’t remember ever hearing them say it.”

He looked up at her, head tilted and expression softened by concern. “Ororo, you-”

“Please. I just need to say this.” He quieted immediately, and she rubbed her thumb over the back of his hand. “You’ve made me realize that love doesn’t need to be named or spoken into existence. It simply _is_ , all on it’s own. So, yes, I love you now. But I also loved you before. And I’m going to keep loving you, even if you hate me.”

He gave her fingers a squeeze, and stared back at her, eyes wide with affection and regret. “Ororo, I could never hate you.” She felt his tail brush against her thigh as it passively encircled the small area they both sat in. He shut his eyes, lowering his head with an exhausted sigh. “I just- I know that there are some things I need to work on. With myself. On my own.”

She released his hand and placed both of hers at the junction between his neck and shoulders. It was a risk, she knew, but she couldn’t let herself not try. She ducked her head down to meet his gaze, giving a very slight, understanding smile. With as much caution as she could manage, she leaned forward to gently kiss one salt-streaked cheek, and then the other, before resting her forehead on his. “They could be things that we work on together, if you wanted.” she offered, letting her hands slide around the back of his neck and loosely clutching them together. “Goddess knows I have a few things, myself.”  

He wrapped his hands around her wrists and said nothing as the seconds ticked by, before quickly moving forward to press his lips to hers. The kiss is short and restrained, but it’s everything she wanted. “I think I would like that very much.” he said quietly as soon as they parted.

She pulled back to look at him, and tucked a few stray hairs behind his ear. There’s still an underlying hint of pain in his face, but the faint smile he returns is sincere. The spade of his tail thumped against her thigh at a regular rate, and she felt as though a massive weight had been removed from her- she’s almost so light she could float. By unspoken agreement, they both came together, wrapping their arms around each other in a firm embrace.

“Jean said we’re supposed to get ice cream now?” he whispered, with hint of confusion. She laughed into his shoulder.

******         

On the ground below, Jean glanced upwards towards the roof and smiled to herself. She typically tried to stay out of people’s private thoughts- or so she kept telling herself- but the afternoon had been so emotionally exhausting, she couldn’t help taking a mental ‘peek’ to assure herself that things were going okay. Satisfied for the time being, she started walking back towards the mansion door. She hadn’t gotten ten feet when Scott’s voice rang loudly in her head.

* _Jean! I found Kurt! He was hiding in a broom closet!_ * Scott projected triumphantly to her. She stopped in her tracks, face twisted in confusion, for a half-second until he sheepishly updated her. * _Fuck! Nevermind. It was an old trench coat. I’ll keep you posted._ *

She swore under her breath and rolled her eyes before projecting back to him. * _Scott, hon, it’s fine. We found him. Him and ‘Ro are talking. I’m in the yard by the pool. Please stop looking._ *

She took a moment to shake her head, and soon noticed Jubilee practically skipping towards her. Clutched in her hands were fistfuls of napkins with words scrawled all over them.

“’Sup!” she called out when she was close enough. Jean spared a nod and a slight wave. She looked as though she was about to ask Jubilee what was with the napkins when Peter suddenly appeared on the other side of Jubilee, with Scott in tow.

Scott looked to Jean, eyebrow raised, and Jean wordlessly directed her attention towards the roof. Scott followed her eyeline and nodded.

“Huh. So, up there?” Peter commented, before shooting Scott a conspicuous side-glare. “Not in a broom closet or behind the fridge or underneath Hank’s desk?”  

“Yup.” Jean confirmed as Scott scoffed and shook his head.

“So, are we… _okay_  with them being on the roof?” Jubilee asked cautiously. “They’re not gonna, like, fight and throw each other off it?”

Jean gazed towards the roof, brow furrowed analytically. “No, I think it should be fine. It’s not perfect, but I think things are gonna be okay.”

“Oh, thank God.” Scott huffed. “That was a tense couple of hours.”

Peter crossed his arms and nodded along. “And now we never have to think about anything that happened today, ever again.” he said wistfully as he gazed towards the roof.

Peter was so enthralled by the roof that he didn’t notice Scott drop his arms to his sides and angrily glare at him. That is, until Scott sucker-punched him in the stomach.

Peter was instantly down in a heap, curled into a pathetic ball, coughing and groaning and croaking a weak “Fuck!”

Scott peered down at him, shaking the soreness out of his hand. “That’s what you get for being a _fucking_  perv.” he stated plainly.

Jean tipped her head back with an aggravated groan as Jubilee pointed at Peter and laughed uncontrollably at his misfortune.

“Hey! Don’t laugh!” Jean snapped. “I’ve got a thirty-six hour migraine with your name on it. Just when you least expect it.”

“Ugh! Gag me!” Jubilee whined. Jean gave a smug, disinterested shrug. Jubilee crossed her arms and looked Jean up and down. “You know, Jean…if you were doing it in public, it was because you wanted to get caught.”

“Forty-eight hours.” was all Jean said.

“Aw, man!” Jubilee scowled. “I’d actually like it better if you just punched me in the stomach.”

“Nah. Not really my style.” Jean replied with a click of her tongue. She turned on her heel and headed towards the house, motioning with one arm in that same direction. “C’mon, guys. Those apples aren’t gonna unpack themselves.”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter's title is from Fleetwood Mac's 1977 song 'Go your Own Way.' I really liked it for this chapter because depending on the interpretation, it can either mean "You can independently seek out your own path" or "You can just fuck right off. Asshole." 
> 
> I realize now that too many of these titles have been Fleetwood Mac-based. I set out to pick mostly '80s songs, cuz that's when the story is set, but all I learned is that I really have to diversify my musical interests. 
> 
> I have my own HC about Azazel that I just kinda touched on in this fic, that I might address more in a future fic. I haven't decided yet. 
> 
> One more chapter, guys! We're in the home stretch!


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